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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281864">chasing dragons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoaliencowboy/pseuds/octoaliencowboy'>octoaliencowboy</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneFunAnon/pseuds/ThatOneFunAnon'>ThatOneFunAnon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Humor, Food, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Im taking liberties, Link (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Link has a bit of a pottymouth, Memory Loss, Not Canon Compliant, Rated teen for swearing, Spoilers, Video Game Mechanics, basically just a novelization of botw but way gayer, gratuitous descriptions of clothing, i like links outfits ok, long chapters, mostly - Freeform, semi vocal link, warning: this fic is gonna be hefty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:00:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoaliencowboy/pseuds/octoaliencowboy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneFunAnon/pseuds/ThatOneFunAnon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link feels most like himself in the wild, with the wind in his hair, grass stains on his knees and a mysterious wolf by his side. He wakes up in the shrine of resurrection with nothing but destiny to his name, and the quest he has laid out before him will be a long and arduous one. How will he reconcile what he has to be with who he really is? With the weight of the world on his shoulders, and not nearly enough sleep in his system, that may be more difficult than he realizes.</p><p>(Not canon compliant-- it's better)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. it was like that when i got here!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basically this is a novelization of botw but like with a lot of liberties taken. You'll see what I mean. No gore though, don't worry.<br/>Also, there are infinite ways to play this game, this is just one possible series of choices and consequences! Hope y'all enjoy  ^///-///^</p><p>Huge thank you to my little sibling for being my most loyal beta reader and helping me write by actually playing the game the exact way I'm writing it and also I was able to write the way they were playing it which is great! Could not have done this without them UwU</p><p>Edit: we are actually going to be taking even more liberties than originally planned, so it will only be vaguely canon complaint but I promise what we have in store will be so huge galaxy brained, we really hope you enjoy and stick around to see where it goes :) we’ve got big things planned</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link wakes up, not all the way whole.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw vague panic attack (drink ice cofy...... panik ettec)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A light. There, in the distance, cutting through an endless black. Bright for how far away it is, and golden. That is what he sees. </p><p> </p><p>A murmur. That is what he hears. A voice. Farther away than the light is. But still, he… it wants something, he thinks. It wants something from him. It’s pleading for it. But he can’t make out the words. </p><p> </p><p>The light grows— grows, or gets closer, or maybe it’s him that’s racing towards it, he doesn't know. But suddenly the light is huge and blinding and the voice rings out as clear as can be. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Open your eyes… </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The voice speaks again, less pleading this time. More guiding. The voice is soft, and gentle. The voice sounds kind. He wants to listen to it. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Open your eyes… open your eyes. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>He opens them. Sees a light. It’s different than the one from the black. This light is blue. He blinks a few times as his eyes adjust— once they do the room seems quite dim, and the blue light above him is not so harsh. He can feel the opening and closing motion of his eyelids like it’s the only thing he can feel at all, like a giant moving in slow motion. Every twitch and every breath awakens a new part of his body he doesn't realize he has until he moves it. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Wake up, Link. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Link wakes up. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a strange feeling of wetness, too. The wetness, he hesitates to call it water, moves with a deafening rushing noise, and he’s no longer quite floating. The ground under him is solid, and rough, it hurts his head to lie on it. So he sits up. </p><p> </p><p>Despite the wetness that surrounded him moments ago, as soon as it’s all gone, drained into the ground, his skin and clothes and hair is dry like the wetness was never there. </p><p> </p><p>‘Clothes’ is generous. He's in a pair of underwear and nothing else. His feet are bare. His fingertips slide across the stone under him. He can’t tell if wherever he is is cold or not. It’s sort of just… nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Everything is kind of nothing. There’s a lot of nothing, right now. </p><p> </p><p>He looks around. He’s in some kind of chamber. He’s in some kind of empty pool, raised above the ground. Pulling himself out, he feels as though his legs are both made of paper and as strong as they will ever be. He stands, and when he takes a step, it is sure, and his knees do not shake. For some reason, that is surprising to him.</p><p> </p><p>The nothing is inside him. It takes a second to realize, because in his head is empty. Not a thought or an idea— he does not know the sound of his own voice, even as it might exist in his head. </p><p> </p><p>The voice that led him out of the black is not his voice. That is something that he knows. He doesn't know if he knows anything else. </p><p> </p><p>Everything is happening on a deeply subconscious level. No thinking. Just feeling. Just doing. </p><p> </p><p>The whole chamber is filled with some kind of noise that he could never begin to identify. Maybe it’s the chamber itself that makes it. Either way, he definitely hears it, ringing in his ears and bouncing around his empty head. It’s a sort of humming, but not quite, it’s also like a hundred voices singing from the bottom of a canyon, and he is standing alone at the top. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe the sound is coming from inside his own head, and it is not the chamber at all that makes it. Maybe that’s the sound all this nothing inside him makes. Even though that’s an absurd concept— the sound of nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Looking around more, he spots some kind of pedestal, glowing in the same way as the chamber around him. Something resonates in him upon seeing it— not familiarity, or recognition. But somehow all his senses zero in, like he knows whatever is on that pedestal is very important. </p><p> </p><p>He walks over to it. The voice comes back. It’s a woman speaking. Not that he didn’t realize that already, but now it registers in a way that it seems as though his thoughts are warming up, practicing for when he has a clear, conscious thought. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>That is a Sheikah slate. Take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber.</em>” As she speaks, the pedestal moves, stone on stone making a rumbling grinding noise that would be massive if noises could have physical sizes. Some sort of device raises itself from the pedestals grip. The Sheikah slate. </p><p> </p><p>He takes it. It’s a little bigger than his hand, and it hums in a way that feels both familiar and alien. There’s a sort of handle on the top of it. After a second of fiddling with it, he manages to turn it on. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a very strange device. </p><p> </p><p>He grips it by the handle and lets his arms hang at his sides. As he does, the closed door in front of him raises up with another rough grumble, and he walks through to find himself in another chamber. </p><p> </p><p>Dust covers every surface, piled up in corners and where the wall meets the floor, until the whole place feels almost round. The room is cramped compared to the moon sized cavern he just found himself in. </p><p> </p><p>There are huge wooden crates and barrels, dilapidated and rotten. He barely spares them a glance. What captures his attention are the two equally dilapidated chests right in front of him. He opens one, and finds nothing inside but an old, moth-eaten shirt. The stitches are weak and the fabric is thin, but he decides to keep it anyway.  </p><p> </p><p>He can’t figure out if this room is cold or not either, but he shivers anyway when his bare skin slides against more bare skin. He feels too exposed like this. He puts the shirt on. </p><p> </p><p>The sleeves are too short, but it fits fine in the armpits and the torso isn’t too loose or tight. Slate tucked under his arm, still crouched in front of the open chest, he looks down at his bare thighs and frowns. </p><p> </p><p>He moves over to the other chest and opens that one, too. Inside is exactly what he had been hoping to see. Pants, boots, and a belt too. </p><p> </p><p>The pants are old and worn also, the frayed bottom hems coming down to his calves, and a little loose around the waist, but he guesses that’s what the belt is for. The belt has a hook on it that he clips the slate onto, so he doesn't have to constantly worry about dropping it. </p><p> </p><p>The soles of the boots are hard and thin, the leather cracked and dry, just as old as everything else in here. When he stands, they don’t offer any cushioning or support whatsoever, but at least they’ll protect his feet from sharp things on the ground. </p><p> </p><p>He walks forward once more, more comfortable now that he's clothed, not sure what to do next. The voice comes back just as he wishes that it would give him guidance again, and it’s almost enough to bring a smile to his face— Almost. He doesn't know why it doesn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hold the slate up to the pedestal,</em>” the voice says. “<em>That will show you the way.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>There’s another pedestal by the far wall, almost exactly like the one in the first chamber, just without the slot that the slate fit into. He grabs it off his waist and taps the face of it to the top of the pedestal carefully, and the pedestal lights up with an otherworldly noise— and the wall moves. </p><p> </p><p>Then, again, light— </p><p> </p><p>But <em> real </em> light this time— sunlight— </p><p> </p><p>Golden like the light he saw at the beginning, and so, <em> so </em>bright he has to shield his eyes against it, but— </p><p> </p><p>A infant of a breeze whispers against his face, and inside him something swells, pushing against his lungs, filling him up and chasing all the nothing away—</p><p> </p><p>The voice is back, ringing in his head, deafening, or maybe she’s speaking from somewhere inside the chamber, he can’t tell, he can barely make out her words through the frenzy steadily overcoming him--</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Link… you are the light— our light— that must shine upon Hyrule once again. Now go. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Link goes. </p><p> </p><p>He runs like a man possessed, his legs carrying him towards that light with a power he can hardly believe is his own. He barely notices the puddle he storms through, water soaking his boots and the bottoms of his pants, and the wall in front of him is nothing to his sudden need to <em> get out </em>. </p><p> </p><p>He scrambles up and over it like something not all the way human, and then there’s just a few more steps and the light is <em> there </em>, filling up the maw that is the exit to this wretched, nothing filled place, and he runs as hard as he  can. </p><p> </p><p>The air that fills his lungs the second he steps outside practically breathes life back into him. Wilderness on all sides, the sky huge and bright and endless above him, wind whipping his hair around and tickling the tips of his ears, the sound of birds chirping and the grass under his feet rustling as he keeps running. Life, everywhere life. </p><p> </p><p>He only stops when the ground stops, skidding to a halt on the edge of a cliff, and from here he can see—</p><p> </p><p><em> I can see </em> <b> <em>everything</em> </b>. </p><p> </p><p>The thought rings clear and loud in his head, and he is not empty anymore. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can see the whole world from here.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Nirvana doesn’t even begin to describe what he's feeling right now. The whole world is right there, stretched out in front of him, and suddenly he feels so, so small, and like a giant all the same. </p><p> </p><p>If before there was nothing in him, now there is <em> everything.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Everything. </p><p> </p><p>He feels everything. </p><p> </p><p>He is everything. </p><p> </p><p><em> This must be Hyrule. </em> He looks up at the sun. He looks at the mountains in the distance, and the trees and the grass and the flowers and huge stone buildings he sees very, very far away. <em> It’s beautiful.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He reviews the things he knows. <em> Hyrule is beautiful. The wind on my face is the most wonderful feeling in the world. The voice from the chamber is not my voice. I don't know whose it is, but I like it.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> My name is Link, it must be, because that’s what the voice called me. I don't know what my voice sounds like.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Something in his peripheral vision catches his attention. It’s a person, walking around on the hill below him.</p><p> </p><p>The slate beeps. He pulls it from his belt and turns it on. There’s a compass and a map on it, but it’s empty. All he sees is a little orange blip nearby, in the general direction of where that person is. The voice <em> did </em> say the slate would help guide him… </p><p> </p><p>Following the orange blip is probably his best bet right now. He puts the slate back and starts walking down the hill, fully intending to go talk to that person he saw before he does anything else. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a stick on the ground that distracts him. </p><p> </p><p>Sitting innocuously in the grass by his feet, a pretty sturdy looking stick, with a little green leaf stuck still on the end. He bends down and picks it up, swinging it around a few times like a sword. </p><p> </p><p>The action pulls a little chuckle out of him. Look at him, playing with a stick he found like a little child. </p><p> </p><p>He decides to hold on to the stick though, anyway. It’s the closest thing he has to a weapon right now. </p><p> </p><p>Apparently, he is very easily distracted. Because when he looks back up, what does he see but another stick! </p><p> </p><p>Why is he so excited about finding sticks on the ground? He can’t say. But he dashes forward and picks up that stick too, so he's dual-wielding sticks. They’re good sticks. He smiles. </p><p> </p><p>That’s when he discovers that he can store things in the slate. </p><p> </p><p>There’s no way he could ever begin to understand how it works, but he can store things in the slate. </p><p> </p><p>At the top of a small stone outcropping on the side of the cliff, about as tall as he is, Link spots a small gathering of mushrooms. He hops up onto the outcropping and picks them, not entirely sure but fairly confident they’re edible. They’re an orange-ish red colour, with large lighter spots on the top, and white stems… he takes a bite out of one, chewing carefully, slowly and thoughtfully. </p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later, he hasn’t died, felt any pain, or violently ejected the mushroom out of either end, so he assumes they’re safe.</p><p> </p><p>Food can be stored in the slate, too! That’s pretty cool. There are only a couple of mushrooms here, but he picks them and stores them in the slate anyway. Food, he knows for sure, will be important to have. </p><p> </p><p>By now he’s almost completely forgotten what he was doing. He wonders if there are more mushrooms up this little cliff, and he climbs it to find out. </p><p> </p><p>Turns out, he's a really good climber. He scales the small cliff easily, finding bits of stone jutting out to grab onto, or to use as footholds, until he reaches the top, only a little bit tired. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't find any more mushrooms. But he keeps going straight anyways, eager to explore the great expanses of green before him. But then the slate dings, and he's reminded of what he was supposed to be doing. </p><p> </p><p><em> Right, the blip. </em>He takes the slate out and looks at the empty map, and the little blip. He looks out in the general direction of the blip— there is a building there. Some kind of temple, it looks like, on the verge of ruins. Maybe that’s where he's supposed to go. He heads straight towards it. </p><p> </p><p>Stopping at the edge of the cliff, he peers down, looking for a good place to climb back down. He travels along the edge of the cliff, always towards the temple.</p><p> </p><p>It’s as he's looking down that he spots the small camp of monsters. </p><p> </p><p>Cognitively, he doesn't really know what they are, but something buried in his head, something that lives next to his instincts, knows what they are. He grins and scales down the cliff— they’re nearby, but he guesses not nearby enough to see him coming. </p><p> </p><p>Armed with a stick and rising adrenaline he charges into their camp, barely giving the red monsters time to react before he's swinging at the head of the nearest one. </p><p> </p><p>It only takes a few good blows for his stick to break, but it’s okay because the monster he’d hit drops a thick wooden branch of a spear. He grabs it and spins. </p><p> </p><p>Another red monster is coming at him with an ear-grating screech. He blocks it’s attack easily, laughably easily, knocking it to the ground with his shiny new spear. </p><p> </p><p>Not shiny anymore. One, two, three bludgeons to the monster’s head with the thing and the monster is done for. To his confusion, the monster curls up and suddenly bursts apart into nothing but foul black smoke. </p><p> </p><p>His momentary lapse in concentration is enough for the third and last monster to whack him across the back of his skull with something painfully solid. He stumbles and manages to roll away on his shoulder before the monster can get another, more damaging blow in. The distance remaining is just as long as his spear is and he grabs it with both hands and jabs it forward as hard as he can-- the tip connects with the monster’s bony sternum and cracks and splinters in his hands as the ugly red abomination falls and disappears the same way the others did. </p><p> </p><p>Small bursts of pain make themselves known in the palms of his hands as the adrenaline from the fight fades. He hisses and looks down, dropping the shards of the spear. His hands are full of splinters. </p><p> </p><p>He sighs and makes his way over to the large log on the ground that must be part of the monsters’ camp and sits heavily on the slightly mossy surface. He sets about pulling the splinters of varying sizes from his hands, biting back the urge to make small noises of pain as he does. This pain is infinitesimal compared to what he's used to-- but he doesn't know how he  knows that. As he works through his task he takes the opportunity to study his hands. They’re calloused and scarred, which puzzles him, because he can’t remember ever gaining such scars or calluses. </p><p> </p><p>In fact, he realizes suddenly and jarringly, he doesn't remember anything. That did not make him as uneasy as it does now, faced with evidence of wear and tear on his body that he has no recollection of. Evidence that he lived and existed before The Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes those thoughts away. It does no good to dwell on that which he doesn't understand. That thought resides in the same place in his mind as whatever it was that gave him such glee from fighting those monsters. Trying to distract himself, he takes another look around the camp, looking for things he can take with him. </p><p> </p><p>Like that giant hunk of meat roasting over the fire. He pulls it off the bone and stores it, and it’s as he's doing that that he realizes those monsters left things behind. Crouching in the dirt, he examines the small sharp objects on the ground-- what looks like teeth and horns from the monsters. He takes those, too. Not sure why, but he has a feeling they will be useful. </p><p> </p><p>He takes their dropped weapons, too-- a second spear, and a torch. He doesn't really want to take the spear, because it sucks and this one would probably also give him splinters, but pragmaticism wins over. There is also a pot lid resting on the ground, which he figures might make a fine makeshift shield.</p><p> </p><p>There are more mushrooms at the base of one of the trees, he notices gladly, and two bushes of what he thinks are hot peppers. He takes an experimental bite out of one. Immediately his mouth feels like it's on fire, but he grins around the mouthful anyway. He likes spicy food-- another thing that he knows but doesn't know how he knows.</p><p> </p><p>He moves on. That temple is still there, in the distance, and he still feels drawn towards it. Jogging down the hill he stays close to the edge of the cliff, water below him. The temple looms closer in view, and it’s as he comes to the start of some broken up stair path that he fully realizes how in ruin it is. Broken glass crunches under his feet as he slowly steps forward, taking it all in. </p><p> </p><p>Almost all the windows are at least a little broken, some more than others, at least one completely shattered and empty. Moss and vines cover the entire crumbling structure, stones that once must have been sturdy teetering and fallen, leaving gaps in the walls. From here he  can see that the roof is in disrepair, even caved in in some places. </p><p> </p><p>But even as clearly neglected as it is, a sense of significance washes over him. This is a very <em> important </em>place. A tugging in his chest wants to weep at the state it’s in, something in his soul  that he thinks is himself and also not himself. He skips over trying to find an entrance and simply pulls himself in through one of the more gaping windows.</p><p> </p><p>The temple is even worse for wear on the inside than it is on the outside. Grass has completely grown over what he is sure was once a proper stone floor. And from here he can see that nearly all the other wall and the roof on that side has crumbled away to nothing, blue sky exposed beyond. Unstable piles of brick and shattered pillars litter the ground. He frowns. Something tells him this did not happen just out of neglect… this place seems like it was too well designed, too sturdily built to have succumbed to the ravages of time as thoroughly as this. </p><p> </p><p>Something had been done to this sacred place. </p><p> </p><p>His feet carry him up some stairs of their own volition, like in a trance, until he is standing below a large statue of the goddess. He recognizes her on a primal level. She, too, is covered in moss, like everything else in here, and the smaller, smoother and rounder versions of her image that sit at her feet. Flowers grow here, and small butterflies flit about. Despite his torn apart surroundings, this feels peaceful to him, almost like despite the cruelty that has been unleashed upon it, this place is still somehow as it is meant to be. </p><p> </p><p>He kneels before her, but…</p><p> </p><p>She seems to be smiling down at him, real even though that is simply the way her face is carved. She does not speak to him. He can’t figure out why this disappoints him.</p><p> </p><p>He stands and turns, and starts walking away. Then he glances to the side, and spots something that makes him freeze in his tracks.</p><p> </p><p>There, barely twenty feet away, is… he doesn't know <em> what </em> it is, but he doesn't like it. Its shape reminds him of the empty place he woke up in, but there’s a more evil aura that he senses from it, as broken and lifeless as it is. Its legs are sprawled, claws gripping fallen stone, and its dead eye sends fear shooting down its limbs. </p><p> </p><p>His heart races, his throat squeezes shut and sweat drips from his forehead as he carefully sidesteps past it, never taking his eyes off it. There’s a phantom pain in his chest. He tries not to make any sudden movements even as he chastises himself for reacting like this to a mere <em> shell </em>.</p><p> </p><p><em> Snap out of it </em> ! He berates himself. <em> It’s dead! It’s dead! </em></p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know <em> anything </em>-- </p><p> </p><p>Pretty soon the <em> thing </em> is hidden behind a piece of wall but that does nothing to soothe his nerves. he knows it’s still there, it’s not gone, it’s there and deadly and waiting to-- </p><p> </p><p>He bumps into something and jumps out of his skin, a sudden screech piercing through the panicked fog in his head as he turns, muscles tense and already moving to strike whatever it is-- </p><p> </p><p>His panic unlocks a strength he hardly knows he has and not only is the red monster felled by that one blow, but his spear shatters as well, broken in half on it’s skull. </p><p> </p><p>Panting and gasping, he stands there and tries to come back to himself as the monster disappears in that same smoke, leaving it’s club and more teeth behind. He tries to focus on the sensations around him, grounding himself. There is still a breeze, he can feel it on his cheeks and in his hair. The sun is warm from where it has climbed in the sky. His hands are still smarting a little from the splinters earlier. </p><p> </p><p>His throat hurts. Was… was it him that screamed, and not the monster? He can’t be sure, but he thinks that may be the case.</p><p> </p><p>He takes a deep breath, then another. He pays attention to the way his lungs fill and empty themselves, then fill again. </p><p> </p><p>It’s okay. He's okay. He collects the monster parts and the club. </p><p> </p><p><em> At least the wrapping on this club looks like it’s done right </em>, he thinks wryly. </p><p> </p><p>To his left are some clay pots. He looks between the pots and the club in his hand, and smiles as an idea comes over him. </p><p> </p><p>Swinging wildly, he brings the club down on one of the pots and it smashes into tiny little pieces. </p><p> </p><p><em> Goddess, that feels good. </em> He rears on the other pots and smashes those too, grinning as his tension is released, until a wooden clattering noise catches his attention. Stuffed in one of those pots had been a quiver with a few arrows in it. He snatches it up off the ground. <em> Nice! This is mine now.  </em></p><p> </p><p>A quiver of arrows isn’t much good without a bow to shoot them with, though, so he looks around to see if whoever had left these here had left a bow as well. Tucked in the corner is an old chest like the ones from the empty place. Maybe in there? </p><p> </p><p>He’s right-- when he kicks the chest open there’s a small wooden bow sitting dusty at the bottom. It’s not ideal for combat, looks more like something a game hunter or a traveller might carry with them, but a cheap bow is better than none. He straps it to his back and moves on. </p><p> </p><p>There are two more of those broken clawed shells just outside the entrance to the temple, and he startles upon seeing them, but this time he doesn't let himself be seized by the instinctual terror the sight of them assaults him with. Instead just runs in the other direction.</p><p> </p><p>His feet pound against the hard stone ground as he runs down the steps away from the temple and vaults over a low wall lined by some hedges. At the bottom of the hill is another one of those red monsters-- which seem to just be crawling all over the place. Fine, he could use another fight. </p><p> </p><p>This time the monster sees him coming. It runs to meet him in the middle and immediately starts swinging its club, but he's ready for it. These monsters all seem to fight with a pretty basic pattern-- he ducks and dodges, and swings back with his own club. That hit lands pretty solidly at its side but it's not deterred. It just tries to bludgeon him again. This time he has to raise up his improvised shield to avoid having his skull bashed in as it screeches and tries its best to break his shield and his damn arm along with it.</p><p> </p><p>A sweeping kick has it off its feet and tumbling onto its back with another ear-grating screech, and, vulnerable and exposed like that, it's not hard for him to dispatch it soon after that. The thing disappears in smoke, leaving the usual parts behind, and he collects them and its weapon in what seems to quickly be becoming routine.</p><p> </p><p>He huffs and, this time at a much calmer pace, walks into the crumbling bare bones of a building that the monster had been hanging out in. He's not sure what it used to be, but there’s another chest in there. Immediately he goes over to it-- he’s had good luck with the few chests he’s come across already and he doesn't see the harm in testing that luck again. </p><p> </p><p>This chest had been left out in the open, and the metal latch on it is nearly rusted shut. He grunts as he tries to pry it open with his fingers, and when that didn't work, he tries using the handle of his club to lever it open. </p><p> </p><p>That doesn’t work either. He frowns at the thing, his mouth twisting in frustration and a healthy dose of impatience. He walks behind it and delivers a swift kick to the chest, sending it tumbling down the steps. It breaks on its hinges halfway down, and by the time it reaches the bottom the frail stone has completely broken open, the contents spilled out on the ground. He follows it and brushes the rubble away, intent on inspecting the contents and seeing if they’re worth the trouble. His jaw drops open when he actually sees what was in there. </p><p> </p><p>It’s clothes! He pulls the pants out from the pile and holds them up-- these seem so much sturdier than the ones he’s got on right now! Better, thicker fabric, stronger stitching, actually the proper length-- he can hardly believe how good of a find this is. He slings the pants over his arm and checks out the rest of the clothes-- not that many, but there’s a pair of boots and <em> socks too </em>.</p><p> </p><p>He grabs all of it and backs into a corner of the dilapidated building, looking around to ensure he's alone, though he hasn't seen any other people around yet other than that guy-- <em> Oh yeah, that guy! </em>-- and quickly starts removing the old clothes he has on now. </p><p> </p><p>The socks feel heavenly. The wool is a little stiff, could be soft with a quick wash, though they’ll work perfectly for now. He’s barely spent a few hours in those poorly made boots, and already his feet are starting to blister. Then he pulls the new pants on. They’re a little snug, but not so tight he doesn’t have a full range of movement, which is good.</p><p> </p><p>And the boots… oh, the boots. Real leather, soft and strong and supple, sturdy craftsmanship, proper padding in the soles, with just a little bit of height boost at the heel… wow. This is a greater treasure than any gem or fancy weapon he possibly could have found.</p><p> </p><p>As he’s putting his belt and weapons back on, he checks the map on the slate, and realizes he’s much closer to that blip than he was before. </p><p> </p><p>Slate in hand, he climbs up onto a short wall and compares the map to the landscape in front of him. It should be right in front of him, whatever the blip represents… and based on the distance, it looks like it’s that giant mound of boulders just a little ways off. </p><p> </p><p>Motivation in his task renewed, he runs nearly all the way there, moving right on past the small monster camp and other scattered red monsters on the way. He has a curiosity to be sated now, and he wonders what could be so significant about a bunch of boulders. </p><p> </p><p>Turns out it’s not what’s significant about the boulders, but rather, what’s buried underneath them. It’s some kind of… it almost looks like a gazebo? Made of the same kind of stone-like materials as in the place he woke up in, dusty and dull and half-covered by the rocks. Two things immediately stand out to him about it-- the pedestal in the center, and the tear-drop eye symbol at the top. </p><p> </p><p>Link approaches the pedestal with some caution, very aware of the potentially-unstable boulders above him. As he gets closer it begins to glow orange, and he wonders if it has to do with the slate being near it. Slowly, he unclips the slate, and hovers around the pedestal, unsure of what to do. Upon further examination, he notices there’s a place to fit the slate in on the surface of the pedestal, like the one he first retrieved the device from. Maybe that’s the key?</p><p> </p><p>So, a little unsure of himself still, he places the slate in the pedestal-- and it comes to life, twisting and glowing orange and slotting the slate into place by itself. Then there’s some kind of echoing, otherworldly sound, and some text appears on the slate’s screen; ‘<em> Sheikah tower activated.’  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wait, what?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Please watch for falling rocks.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Wait, </em> <b> <em>what</em> </b> <em> ? </em></p><p> </p><p>Then suddenly there’s a rumbling deep in the ground, and the earth is shaking, rocking almost violently. Link loses his balance and is thrown on his back-- he hits the back of his head on the stone. The rumbling continues as his vision swims and black creeps in from the edges, and he has a vague sensation of rising.</p><p> </p><p>Then, almost as soon as it’s begun, the rumbling stops, and the shaking stops, and Link registers glowing blue, and blue sky beyond that, and-- <em> holy fuck! </em></p><p> </p><p>He pulls himself to his feet and looks around, heart racing at just how high up in the air he is. Vertigo shoots through him and it takes way too much willpower not to just fall right back on his ass again. Tower, indeed. This thing is huge! And it was in the ground that whole time?!</p><p> </p><p>The slate beeps, pulling his attention back to it. <em> ‘Distilling local information </em>.’ The long stone above the pedestal glows a shade of blue that is quickly becoming pretty familiar, and even brighter blue text rolls down it, something about downloading-- then a drop of something else blue drips down from the bottom of that same eye symbol and onto the slate, splashes and seems to sink in. He peers down at the slate, wondering what just happened, and sees that the map on the screen is no longer completely blank.</p><p> </p><p>The pedestal rather politely semi-ejects the slate for him to take it back, and he does, promptly clipping it back to his belt. He turns to leave, but before he can take more than one step that voice is calling to him again.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Remember, </em> ” she says, “ <em> try, try to remember… </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Something far in the distance catches his eye-- for a second he thinks it’s the sun setting, but the sun is still high in the sky, barely even afternoon yet. No, it’s something different. It’s… <em> ah </em>!</p><p> </p><p>That light that called him out of the black, it’s there, shining from the castle far in the distance, bright and beckoning-- Link runs to the edge of the tower, drawn forward by the light. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> You have been asleep for the last 100 years… </em> ” before she can even fully finish her sentence and before Link can process it, another deep rumble comes up from the ground, but this time not under his own feet-- it’s far away. In the distance, the light from the castle shines brighter even as the earth around it seems to shiver, a sinister black and purple smog that Link can see all the way from there, rising up in searching, swirling tendrils. Link shivers, too. “ <em> The beast, </em> ” she says. The light is coming from the castle but the voice is somehow speaking as if there were someone right at his ear. “ <em> When the beast regains its true power this world will face its end. </em> ” The smog takes shape, some kind of serpent, horned, eyes beady. The beast-- it unhinges its jaw, seems to look right at him even from so far away, it <em> roars </em>… his heart races. The light shines on.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Now, then. </em> ” The smog serpent dissipates, but the foul smoke twists around the castle still. “ <em> You must hurry, Link, before it’s too late… </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Then the light fades and the voice does too, but not Link’s sense of dread, and now when he looks over the beautiful landscape of Hyrule there is something else simmering beneath it’s picturesqueness, something sinister, and something in pain. He shudders, and turns away from the sight of the gruesome castle on the horizon.</p><p> </p><p>The voice wants him to remember… but remember what? Who she is? Who he is? What that horrible nightmare incarnate was? What happened… what happened 100 years ago? </p><p> </p><p>He can’t. He tries, but he can’t, frowning as he tries to reach inside himself, rummaging around his frustratingly empty mind, but there’s nothing there. </p><p> </p><p>The nothing is still there. </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, in arguably more pressing matters, he needs to find a way down from here. </p><p> </p><p>Only one of the openings in the top of the tower isn’t filled with rocks, so that’s his only option. He creeps over to the very edge and peers down-- there’s another, smaller, balcony-like platform right below, and he thinks he could make that jump. But it looks like he won’t have to. The tower seems to be lined with some sort of trellis, that looks strong enough for him to grip onto and use to climb down. So that’s what he does. He climbs down halfway and then jumps down the last few feet, landing squarely on the platform. </p><p> </p><p>He’s still hella far up, and there are a lot more platforms spiralling down the tower. He sighs. This is gonna take a while. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>By the time Link gets to the bottom, he’s sure he’s never been so glad to have both feet on solid ground again. His arms and legs ache and he’s sure there are awful pit stains on his raggedy shirt. Before he can even stretch his aching muscles, though, a voice calls down to him from above. A man’s voice, this time, and much more tangible than the mysterious girl’s. </p><p> </p><p>“Ho!” That old man Link saw before when he first woke up glides down from seemingly nowhere, and lands in front of him with an agility that doesn’t quite match his elderly appearance. He folds away the wood-and-cloth contraption he’d used to glide down and speaks. “My, my… it would seem we have quite the enigma, here. This tower and others just like it have erupted across the land, one after the other.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Wait, there are more of these </em>?</p><p> </p><p>The old man seems to smirk under his puffy white beard. “It is almost as though… a long-dormant power has awoken quite suddenly.”</p><p> </p><p>Link narrows his eyes. <em> A long dormant power… </em> like that monster at the castle, or maybe someone who has been asleep for one hundred years…? This man, as unassuming as he appears, knows something, and Link already does not trust him. </p><p> </p><p>“If you do not mind me asking… did anything... odd, occur while you were atop that tower?” </p><p> </p><p>Link just squints at the man and says nothing, suspicion buzzing at his nerves like courser bees under his skin.</p><p> </p><p>The old man is not deterred by Link’s stony silence. “You need not conceal the truth from me,” he says, “Truth be told, I saw the whole thing unfold from afar. Although I could not hear anything, I did see you react as if you heard something coming from the direction of the castle…”</p><p> </p><p>Openly frowning, now, Link wants to know what the hell this man’s business is, what he knows, and what he wants from him. He does not like this man. He’s not sure why, if it’s the knowing too much or something else about him that sets him off. </p><p> </p><p>Link is halfway to reaching for his weapon when he freezes, knowing that despite the bad feeling he has, he can’t just attack a random stranger for it. But that one tensing movement is still enough for the old man to chuckle, as if he’s caught Link up in some sort of game. “Hit the nail on the head, did I? And did you happen to recognize this mysterious voice?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Link mutters. </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, he realizes it’s the first actual word he’s said out loud yet. </p><p> </p><p>The good humour leaves the old man almost immediately. His hood seems to lower as his gaze cools, and Link feels as though he was not wrong to have a bad feeling about him. “I see. Well, that is unfortunate,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>He turns slightly to the side, and points with his lantern-stick towards the horizon. Link turns as well to follow the line of his gaze. “I assume you caught sight of that atrocity enshrouding the castle.” It should be a question, but the old man does not say it like a question. “That… is Calamity Ganon.</p><p> </p><p>One hundred years ago, that vile entity brought the kingdom of Hyrule to ruin.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Calamity Ganon… </em> The old man continues his speech, taking no note of Link’s puzzled and troubled frown.</p><p> </p><p>“It appeared suddenly and destroyed everything in its path. So many innocent lives were lost in its wake. For a century, the very symbol of our kingdom, Hyrule Castle, has managed to contain that evil. But just barely. There it festers, building its strength for the moment it will unleash its blight upon the land once again. It would appear that moment is fast approaching…”</p><p> </p><p>The evil smog, Calamity Ganon’s malicious aura, continues to swirl around the castle. Link shudders-- he can feel its hellish power from there, he can hardly imagine how it would be for that power to cover all the land…</p><p> </p><p>The old man looks at Link once more, as Link keeps his gaze locked firmly on the castle and its plague. He can feel it, the old man’s eyes boring into the side of his skull, leaving no room to hide. There is a power in that gaze, that scares Link almost as much as the one lurking about the castle. The old man is not all he seems. </p><p> </p><p>“I must ask you, courageous one… do you intend to make your way to the castle?” </p><p> </p><p>Link does, but still he does not tell the old man so. The old man laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“You need not say a word. Your eyes reveal the determination within.” </p><p> </p><p><em> My eyes, huh </em>? Link thinks sardonically, resisting the urge to roll them. Instead, he just levels a look at the old man from the corner of his eye. </p><p> </p><p>“Here, on this isolated plateau, we are surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs, with no way down. If you were to try to jump off, well… no death could be more certain. Or more foolish.”</p><p> </p><p>This time, Link does not bother to conceal his dubious expression. Why is the old man telling him this? What does he want?</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” And that smug glint is back. “If you had a paraglider like mine, that would be quite another story.”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, okay. This old man has been talking Link’s ear off for long enough, and Link has no more patience for his riddles or his games. He turns to face the old man and sticks his hand out. “Hand it over!” He demands. </p><p> </p><p>The old man has the <em> audacity </em> to laugh again.  “Oho! Certainly! Why not?” He makes no move to hand over the paraglider. “But there is no such thing as a free item in this world, you know.”</p><p> </p><p><em> You have got to be kidding me </em>. Link suppresses a growl. The world is going to end under an evil he can’t well imagine and this dusty old geezer is trying to, what, swindle him!?</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s see now… How about I trade it for a bit of treasure that slumbers nearby?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Enough with the riddles you fart </em>, Link wants to say but doesn’t, willing to cooperate… for now. But if this old man continues to test him… Link still has this nice, sturdy club that he is sure the old man’s bones will not hold up under.</p><p> </p><p>“Come, let me show you something.”</p><p> </p><p>The old man starts walking, and Link braces himself for a long, slow and boring hike… but the man stops just barely twenty feet away, at the top of a small mound in the ground, overlooking a monster camp, a small moat and beyond that, an orange glowing structure. Link comes to a halt beside him-- and that is when he realizes he barely comes up to the man’s nipples. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you see that structure there? The one shining with a strange light?” The old man says, pointing at that very structure, and this time Link does not resist rolling his eyes. His eyes work fine, thanks very much-- of course he sees it. “It began glowing at the exact moment those towers rose up from the ground.”</p><p> </p><p>Another chuckle. “I would think such a place would house some sort of treasure, wouldn’t you? Treasure for the paraglider. A fair exchange, I believe.”</p><p> </p><p>Whether the old man has plans to say anything else or not, Link’s got the message. He starts walking down the hill with purposeful steps, skirting around a small pond and avoiding that monster camp for now. Half-submerged in the moat, he spots two more of those deactivated death machines, but breathes easy knowing that they’re no threat broken down like that. He keeps walking, up past the broken stones that were once a building and up the rough terrain. There’s another, shallower pond, where he spots some frogs swimming. A stirring of familiarity makes itself known inside him at the sight of the green little things hopping around, but he can’t fathom why. </p><p> </p><p>Then the glowing structure is right there, a shut door at it’s front and another pedestal next to it. By now he knows well what to do, and taps the face of the slate to the pedestal. </p><p> </p><p>A circle on the platform at the entrance lights up blue, and he registers a new message on the slate’s screen: ‘<em> travel gate registered to map </em> ’. ‘ <em> Access granted.’ </em>Then the door is groaning open, uneven bars separating and rotating inwards towards the inside of the structure just as the rest of it changes from glowing orange to blue. The inside of it is… very small. Certainly no room for any kind of treasure. Link frowns, wondering what kind of trick that old man is trying to pull. </p><p> </p><p>He wanders inside anyway, looking for some kind of hidden hatch the treasure might be concealed in. There’s another glowing circle on the ground with that eye symbol on it again, and a panel jutting up from it with one button on it. </p><p> </p><p>Link presses the button. </p><p> </p><p>Like an idiot. The circle makes a noise that startles Link, and <em> moves </em>-- </p><p> </p><p>And then before he can even think about getting out he’s sinking into the ground, light quickly fading as the entrance gets farther away from him, and he keeps sinking downwards. Then he’s completely submerged in darkness, still sinking, and he tries not to panic.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alternate dialogue--</p><p>Old man: hey<br/>Link, panicking thinking he fucked up activating the tower: iT wAs LiKe tHaT wHeN i gOt hErEeEeeEeE</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. shrine time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link's patience with the old man runs out. He's getting off this plateau, one way or another.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is where i start taking liberties, because holy fukc this old man just talks forever and ever im sick of him and didn't want literally the whole chapter to be just his boring expositions</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Soon, but not nearly soon enough, the sinking platform comes to a stop in a chamber bigger than Link could have ever even imagined. The architecture is unlike any he’s ever seen-- or at least he thinks so. That blue glow is </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, surrounding him even as he steps cautiously off the platform, craning his neck to look around. The blue light comes from the ceiling itself, the whole thing glowing on it’s own and lighting up the chamber. He hears energetically rippling water, but can’t see where the sound is coming from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another voice, mysterious and sourceless like the girls but booming instead of soft, fills his head and the cavity of his chest and the chamber around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Oman Au. In the name of the goddess Hylia, I offer this trial.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s all it says before fading again, leaving Link feeling like his ears should be ringing, but they’re not. He looks around some more and frowns. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Trial? The goddess?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s become clear to him that the old man did not send him here for any real treasure. Judging by his suspicious amount of knowledge already, he surely knew what was really in here. So that begs the question, how much does the old man </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually know</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the ground before him, there is a pair of enormous metal planks on the ground, covering what he suspects is a hole in the ground that he has to pass through in order to get past that fence… but he knows he will not be able to move them on his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beyond the planks and to the left of the fenced wall is a pedestal and stone like the one from the tower. It’s obvious what he needs to do, here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He puts the slate in the pedestal and the thing and the stone lights up like the ones on the tower did, too. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sheikah slate authenticated. Distilling rune</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ The slate says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rune? What does that mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teardrop falls onto the slate, absorbs in a show of solidarity between technology and magic, and the slate lights up with a screen he has not seen yet. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Rune extracted</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ Magnesis, it says. Link takes the slate back and looks between it and the planks on the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes quite a bit of fiddling with the slate for him to figure out how to turn it on, and when he does figure it out he’s no less perplexed. Any metal object can be controlled and moved around using the magnesis feature on the slate, it would seem. He tests it on the metal planks-- and is surprised when it takes no effort at all to lift them this way. There’s barely any resistance from the slate, and he doesn’t even have to strain-- although maneuvering is still going to pose quite a challenge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In any case, he was right, and there is a hole in the ground, revealed when he moves the plank closest to him. He lets it drop a few feet away and hops down into the hole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, so that’s where the water is.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He runs down the hallway and comes back up only to be faced with another obstacle-- a wall of stone blocks that he can’t climb. He does </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to climb them, but there’s nowhere to get a grip on any of them, and he just slides back down to the ground. And the seams where the blocks are stacked together are too far apart and too shallow to serve as proper grips either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe if he can reach the designs engraved on the one metal block he could-- oh. The metal one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link backs up so he isn’t in the crash zone and uses magnesis to get a hold on the metal block, waits a beat… then starts swinging. The metal block goes flying back and forth, knocking stone away and more tumbling down around it, until the way is far from cleared but at least he can maneuver through the wreckage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a beeping sound coming from the other side of the last stone block. Link pauses and reaches for his club… there’s a small scuttling noise, and then a machine, some kind of baby version of those deadly shells of mechanical monsters outside, is coming at him around the block, way too fast and way too alive for Link’s comfort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck!” Link yelps and starts whacking it on the head with his club. It dents the strange, ancient metal, but doesn’t do much more damage than that. Link retreats before it can answer with an attack of its own. He jumps up onto one of the blocks, well above its reach, and smirks down at the stupid little fucker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then its eye starts to light up and a distinct sound of powering up can be heard from within its inner mechanics, and Link pales. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He isn’t able to dodge in time before the machine fires a laser at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hits him right in the abdomen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link doubles over-- winded. Just winded? Wait, what the fuck?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He presses a hand to his stomach. His shirt is a little singed, but other than that it doesn’t even sting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link and the machine stare at each other. It seems almost proud of itself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jumps down and lands one more hit on the thing as he lands, and its lights go out as it shuts down and bursts apart into little pieces of machinery and shrapnel, almost self-destructing. Link sifts through the wreckage, nudging the blackened pieces of metal with his foot. He grabs a couple of screws and some bits and bobs and moves on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes quick work of the rest of the puzzles, all involving use of the magnesis rune in some way. Then he finds himself in the last part of the underground shrine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s… almost like some kind of ancient throne, he thinks as he goes up the steps. There’s a figure in there, behind some kind of glowing blue shield with the eye symbol on it, and Link can’t tell if they’re alive or not. It’s hard to make out through the barrier, but their skin is blackened and wrinkled like a half-preserved corpse, and there’s no evidence of any guts behind those ribs that stick out so sharply. Their eyes are closed and the eye is tattooed on their forehead. Their hands, adorned with gold jewelry, form a triangle shape in front of their chest, framed by long locks of stark white hair that somehow remains.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s really creepy. Link has to wonder how long they were down here. Longer than he was in that other shrine, surely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>… Oh goddess, no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Link thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t the treasure, is it? Does that old man want to grind up this corpse’s mummy bones and eat them? Gross.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe he wants that gold. Also a possibility. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes not, though. Link really doesn’t want to have to touch that thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link wonders about that eye symbol, though. So far he’s seen it almost everywhere, and he’s sure he knows it somehow, from before all this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sheikah slate, sheikah tower… sheikah eye?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sheikah corpse?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raises one hand up carefully towards the shield, intending to run his fingers along the lines of the symbol, trying to stir up whatever memory he has of it, but as soon as the tip of his finger meets the shield it shatters into a billion little shards of pure light, drifting out and away and through him and fading out into nothing, so there is now nothing between him and the sheikah mummy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link almost starts to reach for its jewelry when it speaks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t speak from its body, dead and frozen and long disused, its mouth does not move, but their voice fills Link’s head like it did when he first entered the shrine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You have proven to possess the resolve of a true hero</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” it says. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I am Oman Au, the creator of this trial.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am a humble monk, blessed with the sight of the goddess Hylia and dedicated to helping those who seek to defeat Ganon. With your arrival, my duty is now fulfilled. In the name of the goddess Hylia, allow me to bestow this gift upon you… please accept this spirit orb.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, from within its ribs, the spirit orb emerges, glowing purple like crystal and like mist at once, the emblem of the goddess not emblazoned on its surface but somehow suspended within. It floats towards him, and Link doesn’t know if he’s supposed to grab it with his hands, not sure if he could, it doesn’t even look solid-- but it keeps coming towards him, past his outstretched hands and right to the center of his chest. He barely feels it touch him, a whisper of contact, barely an impression of pressure before the orb bursts like a bubble in slow motion, the pure energy from it swirling around him before sinking right into his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's invasive and not at the same time, that pure spiritual energy, a blessing from the goddess bullying its way through his sternum and somehow into his very soul. Yet he also is receptive to it, welcoming of it, he knows it belongs there and once it is part of him he feels more whole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>May the Goddess smile upon you…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The monk says nothing more before its form starts to fade away, crumbling particles drifting away like glowing green ash caught on a breeze that does not exist this far underground. Then it is gone, and Link is left completely alone in the shrine. He turns back.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Link steps out of the shrine and into the daylight-- noticing that the sun is much closer to the horizon than it was before-- he hears the old man call out to him again. He looks towards the ridge where Link left him, but the old man is no longer there. He hears a sound of fabric flapping in the wind behind him, and turns just in time to see the old man touch down with his paraglider from seemingly nowhere, again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old man seems to be smirking when he says, “it seems you managed to get your hands on a spirit orb. Well done!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link spares no bluntness when he raises a suspicious and angry eyebrow at the old man. “How did you know?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clairvoyance!” He says with gusto. “Oho, or perhaps just something similar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He is lying. Link knows he is. He does not know who… or what… the old man is, but he is not something so unassuming as a simple clairvoyant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As one gets older, it can become more difficult to see what is right before one’s own eyes… however, that which was once hidden from view can often be crystal clear. But perhaps that is not true for everyone! Oho ho! The appearance of those towers and the awakening of this shrine…” The old man points with his walking stick to Link’s belt, and, of course, the sheikah slate. “It is all connected to that sheikah slate you carry on your hip right there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fact that the old man knows of the slate is interesting, but not surprising, and he has yet to tell Link anything he had not yet figured out himself, or could not figure out himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Paraglider, please?” Link asks, and he has to admit, with no small amount of insolence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old man fixes him with a sudden fierce glare, thumping his stick on the ground and asserts, unbridled </span>
  <em>
    <span>authority</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his voice-- “I have yet to finish speaking!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link fights a flinch at the outburst, but the old man continues speaking as if nothing happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Long ago, a highly advanced tribe known as the Sheikah inhabited these lands. The great power of their wisdom saved this kingdom time and time again. But their ancient technology disappeared long ago… or so it is said. It is interesting, however, to think… how something like that survived all this time, hidden away in a shrine.” He gestures again with the walking stick. “These shrines are tucked away in numerous places all across this land. On this particular plateau alone, I believe there are still three more. Bring me the treasure from each of those shrines… and I will give you my paraglider.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link tries really, really hard not to sigh petulantly, but he does anyway. “So I need more, now?” His feeling of being completely done with the old man is surely displayed in the tone of his voice, but he doesn’t care if he earns his ire again. He wants this over with, he wants to move on-- he has more important things to do than run errands for this old man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said ‘treasure’, but I never said there would only be one treasure.” The old man says, and Link really really wants to punch him in the face. “Whether it’s one treasure or four, what’s the difference for a young go-getter like yourself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is he mocking me?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since I’m feeling generous, I will also teach you a trick for finding shrines--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No thanks.” Link says. The old man’s shock is palpable, his eyes widening beneath his hood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said, no thanks.” His voice is still rough and raspy from disuse, but it seems with every word he speaks it gets stronger. For some reason, that does not comfort him. He clears his throat before speaking again, this time speaking a little softer, not projecting as hard. His throat is already sore. “I’m sure I can figure it out. I’ll come find you again when I’ve got all your </span>
  <em>
    <span>orbs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old man sputters in outrage, but Link has already turned and started to walk away. “You-- you little-- get back here! I am not done speaking!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Link tosses over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I command you to do as I say!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That gets Link to pause in his steps. He is not sure why it works, but it does, at least until Link shakes himself of the strange urge to obey. He looks over his shoulder at the old man with another raise of his eyebrow, the flash of obedience already gone. “What makes you think you can give me orders?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t give the old man time to respond, though, before he is walking further away, out of earshot. He has nothing but the clothes on his back and the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he is done letting the old man waste his time. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link starts by searching the lower areas of the plateau first, not bothering to go up into the mountains quite yet. Judging by the shape of the plateau on his shiny new map (which he loves) he can probably do a fairly thorough sweep if he goes in a spiral. It means quite a lot of walking, but he doesn’t mind that so much-- the sun is warm and the breeze is cool, and the grass is up to his knees in the fields he crosses, littered with patches of wildflowers and more useful herbs that he picks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes up the hill to avoid the monster camp, not really feeling like dealing with those things at the moment, towards the temple, but turns again just shy of it, going back down to where he sees birch trees and a small structure that doesn’t quite match the ruins scattered about the rest of the plateau. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a cabin-- where he assumes the old man lives, but he doesn’t seem to be home right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a pretty haphazard build, logs loosely stacked on top of a stone base and held together by tangles of rope. It’s not raining right now but if it were there are several spots Link is sure where the roof would be leaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There isn’t even a door, Link notes with amusement, but if he were the only person for leagues around then maybe such privacy wouldn’t be a priority of his, either. And the inside isn’t exactly luxurious-- there is, however, some food here and there, and Link doesn’t feel bad at all about taking it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t feel bad about reading the old man’s diary, either. There isn’t much of interest written in it, generic old man kind of musings, but the bit about the recipe catches his eye. Not really in a good way-- for a dish called, literally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>spicy meat and seafood fry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it doesn’t make sense for someone to forget about one of the ingredients obviously listed in the title. Nearby on the table Link spies a raggedy quill resting in a stained pot of ink, and, smirking, he adds an annotation in the margins of the page.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fish.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks over at the poor excuse of a bed and notices the article of clothing folded on it that had been mentioned in the diary, the warm doublet. Shameless, Link puts it on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s much too big for him, probably because it belonged to someone much larger than him, so he layers it on over the shirt he already has. He’s pleased to find that it really is quite warm, though the old man was certainly right to describe it as itchy. The dyed wool is rough against the skin of his stomach exposed where his regular shirt doesn’t quite reach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his way out he also grabs the woodcutter’s axe that had been laying around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chocks it up to luck that he spots another one of those shrines up on the rocks high above them he walks out. He takes a minute to assess the climb. It’s really high up… and Link is a good climber, but he doesn't think he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>good. It’ll take some time, but he decides to go around.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a huge stone arch looming over the pathway that goes up into the mountains, and through it like a frame, Link spots another shrine glowing orange in the distance, higher and farther than the one he’d spotted earlier, that he’s making his way to now. He marks it on his map and turns at the archway, towards where he saw the first one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, he’s glad for the warm doublet, because as loose-fitting and scratchy as it is, it does still do an effective job at staving off the worst of the cold, that nips at his face and neck quite fiercely still. He’s also glad for the better pants and boots, because he’s sure his old boots would have been absolutely useless against the snow that he trudges through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hikes up the path, wind whistling and no longer the gentle caress of a breeze it was earlier, until he comes to a rock face just about twice as tall as him, which he climbs over easily, even with the loose gloves that had been stuffed in one of the doublet’s sleeves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he clears the rock face, monstrous screeching grabs his attention-- right next to him is a monster camp, and Link curses that he didn’t hear them earlier. They’re already charging at him before he even has his footing, and he barely has enough time to grab his shield and club before the first of three is on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re not even a challenge. Skill comes unbidden to him like he’s been fighting these things for far longer than a few hours. The first, second and third monsters fall in less than minutes, and once the black smoke clears the sweat that Link broke is from the exertion in warm clothes, not necessarily the fight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had a campfire going. After collecting their weapons and left behind parts he allows himself another few minutes to sit by it, appreciating the warm sun on the exposed back of his neck. The sun is farther along in the sky than he would have liked it to be. He’d wanted to be done with these shrines and the old man by nightfall today, but judging by how far he’s already travelled and how much farther he still has to go, that probably isn’t going to happen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He keeps moving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It only takes a few minutes more to reach the shrine. It opens like the other one did, lights up like the other one did, and when he steps onto the platform and pushes the button, takes him down into the darkness just like the other one did. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Stasis is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span> rune, that, like everything else about the slate, Link could never begin to explain or rationalize, so he, for the most part, just decides not to think about it too hard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least he got a really good shield out of this one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And a sledgehammer. Nice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Receiving the spirit orb this time is not any less weird. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He spots the last shrine as he’s coming out of the stasis one. He turns and goes in the other direction, back down the snowy path. His short term goal is not either of the other shrines, but the bokoblin camp and more importantly, their coveted campfire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not quite evening yet, but it’s getting there, and he’s certain the mountain will only get colder the later it gets in the night. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the snow, freezing cold, all night, not knowing what’s up there, between him and that shrine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He crouches next to the fire, not wanting to sit right in the snow and soak his pants. He looks at the sun’s position again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s when Link realizes he hasn’t eaten all day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mouth suddenly watering something fierce, he pulls out one of the seared steaks he’d taken from the hut, as well as a handful of mushrooms and peppers. He holds the whole steak in his mouth, not caring for manners, and sets about making a mushroom-and-pepper skewer that he props over the fire to roast while he munches happily on the steak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The steak is a little dry and a little closer to well-done, but it’s still damn good meat, and Link would like to savour every bite of it, he really would, but he doesn’t. He tears into it like an animal, ripping off pieces with his teeth and with his hands. He stains his gloves but doesn’t care. He’s all alone out here, he doesn’t have anyone to </span>
  <em>
    <span>impress </span>
  </em>
  <span>out here, in the wild. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s all alone out here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once his skewer is done he eats that too, with just as much gusto, and then settles a little closer to the fire to rest. If he sleeps early then he can wake up early, and then he’ll have more daylight to complete his task. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as he’s closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep, he has one more thought before unconsciousness takes a hold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Man, I hope no monsters come and kill me in my sleep, haha. That would suck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link blinks awake as the sun comes up over the horizon, shining bright over Hyrule with the promise of a new day. The rays of light reflect off the snow and hurt Link’s eyes, and he squints as he sits up, shivering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fire had died at some point during the night, leaving nothing but charred logs behind. Link’s pants are wet, and unlike the wool warm doublet, the cotton is not designed to keep cold out even when wet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he stands his legs are stiff, and his fingers and toes are cold-- but that’s better than not being able to feel them at all. He sighs as he stretches, trying to get his blood flowing. If he wants to ever spend the night in the cold and snow again, he’s going to have to be a lot better prepared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He checks the spot on his map where he saw that other shine up in the mountains. He can’t see it from where he’s standing, but he guesses it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to get there, provided the terrain isn’t too difficult.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The terrain is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very difficult</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There’s a relatively clear path up the mountain, but the ease stops there-- it’s steep, so step that at times he has to use his hands to support his way up, and the snow is much deeper here, up to his knees in spots. The morning sun is </span>
  <em>
    <span>blinding</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If Link thought his pants were wet before, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>soaked</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, boots full of snow and skin freezing cold. He’s miserable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not even halfway there.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a monster camp right below the next shrine. He can hear it, it’s unavoidable. He really, really doesn’t want to have to fight any monsters right now. His muscles are sore from tensing up against the cold, the wind up here is brutal and his ears and whole face hurts, and his legs are so cold that they’re practically burning. But he kind of has to fight them-- and anyway, maybe they’ll have another campfire going he can warm himself by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he brandishes his shield and club, and drags himself up the hill. He’s ready.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Halfway up he has to dodge huge snow boulders tumbling down the hill at him-- Link curses as he rolls out of the way. Then he clears the top of the hill, spots the red monsters. They spot him and come running, caterwauling. One of them picks up a barrel. He braces himself--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then an explosion sends him flying back down the hill, tumbling back and picking up snow as he rolls. By the time he’s at the bottom, everything hurts. His clothes are singed and he has a bad feeling that his eyebrows might not be all the way there, but he’s not burned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link curses again-- did that monster throw a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bomb barrel</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He climbs back up and blinks-- the monsters are gone. That monster had just kamakaze’d himself and the others. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link plunks down by the fire, exhausted. Unfortunately, the meat the monsters had had roasting didn’t survive the explosion either-- it lies blackened and torn in the snow nearly a yard away. Sad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s already noon. Link groans and pulls himself to his feet and takes an apple from the slate, eats it in large bites as he climbs up the last bit of way to the shrine. He passes a half-frozen pond on his way, that reflects the sun’s light in a much kinder way than the snow underfoot does and he has to admit, even in his grump, that it is quite beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Where the other two shrines weren’t exactly warm or cool, lacking much in the way of temperature generally, the cryonis shrine feels distinctly cool. Figures. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he got a nice spear out of it, which was pretty neat. He likes this one much more than the shitty boko spears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Receiving the spirit orb still isn’t any less weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When he gets out of the shrine, Link looks down at the hike before him and groans pitifully. He really doesn’t want to do that again… by the time he even gets back to that stone arch it’ll probably already be night, and he still has another shrine to do… he sighs. Pulling up the map, Link zooms in, looking for a more direct path down. Accidentally, he taps the tower icon, and a little message pops up saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘teleport</span>
  </em>
  <span>?’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link pauses, looking at the new button in confusion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What…</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He taps it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Big mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A blue haze takes over his vision as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> every cell and particle of his body separate and fly away. He wants to scream but he can’t make a noise, as his consciousness stretches across an empty aether and suddenly everything is dark, and everything is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It lasts both an eternity and less than a second-- he's pulled apart and then put back together again, the blue comes back and then dissipates as well as he feels solid ground under newly-reconstructed feet. Vertigo sweeps through him and he stumbles, gasping, nausea welling up in his stomach and creeping dangerously far up his throat. Every part of him feels tingly and it hurts, he shakes his arms frantically, trying to get the sensation off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he can get his vision to focus, Link realizes he’s standing on top of the sheikah tower. He blinks at the land stretched out before him, the view so different than it had been seconds ago. He shakes his head, looks down at the slate, and with trembling hands clips it back onto his belt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, fuck that. Next time, Link will just buck up and take the hike-- he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing that again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chuckle behind him snatches Link’s attention. He whirls around to see none other than the old man standing there, smirking at him from the corner of his eye. Link just glowers and doesn’t engage him. He climbs down the tower as fast as he can-- cuts corners and takes further jumps. It’s an easier climb the second time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shrine he had seen had been located in some ruins to the south of the tower. He walks there quickly, his pounding feet flattening the grass in his wake. He’s almost done. Almost free of this plateau, this sprawling prison. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even at his hastened pace it takes nearly half an hour to reach the ruins. He’s sure this was not their intended purpose upon being built, but what’s left of this building looks like some kind of maze. He can just barely see the top of the shrine peeking out above the mossy stone walls, and he follows it like a beacon into the ruins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are more of those dead clawed machines here. The way they’re tilted, claws gripping the crumbling stone, makes his pulse pick up irrationally. But, so long as they stay deactivated, he’ll be fine. He keeps moving silently through the ruins-- he’s almost there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link climbs up onto one of the walls, balancing along the top. The deactivated death machines are everywhere. He lets out a shaky breath and moves swiftly along the wall, keeping his balance even as bits of rubble crumble under his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s… bombs. The rune is bombs. The slate gives him fucking infinity bombs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a good quality claymore from a half-hidden chest, and he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>infinity bombs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and even if he can’t remember, Link is sure he’s never felt this much joy in his entire life.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The old man is waiting outside. “With this you have now acquired all of the spirit orbs from the shrines on this plateau.” He doesn’t even bother with hello, just dives right into whatever speech he had prepared for this. He doesn’t say anything about Link’s pilfered clothes. “Oho! Extraordinary! That means… it is finally time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Time to give me the paraglider?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Link, it is finally time for me to tell you everything.” Ah, guess Link should have known better than to get his hopes up. Wait, did he ever tell this guy his name? “But first…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old man turns away from him. “Imagine an X on your map, with the four shrine as the end points. Find the spot where those lines intersect. I shall wait for you there.” He turns agan, as a blue glow starts as his feet and wraps up around his silhouette. It’s a different glow than the blue of the sheikah technology. Link stares as the old man turns transparent and starts to fade away. “Do you understand? Where the two lines cross… I will… wait there…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with those last echoed words he’s gone, nothing but empty space where he once was. Link swallows his shock and pulls up the slate’s map. Finally, he’s going to get some answers. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not hard to figure out that the old man-- ghost?-- wants him to go to the temple. It’s the only place of real significance in the general area of the centre of the X shape made by the shrines. He makes his way there right away, easily dispatching the monsters he runs into on his way there-- at one point he switches from the club, which is too damaged and worn down at this point to be of any more use, to the spear that he had gotten from one of the shrines. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he makes it up the hill to the temple, the sun has just begun to set. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s spent two days on this plateau, and he doesn’t plan on spending one more. He’s leaving tonight, nightall or not, paraglider or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon arriving at the decrepit temple, Link immediately notices the Goddess statue is glowing. He walks up to her, and the light that had beckoned him fades as he gets closer. For a second he wonders if he had imagined it, but no-- the statue had called him to her. For a moment he forgets about the old man, and kneels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You who have conquered the shrines and claimed their spirit orbs.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” An ethereal voice speaks to him, an ultimate, not of this world voice. Link’s head snaps up, and the statue’s glow is back, this time shining from above, enveloping the statue and him in it’s pure white light. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>In exchange for four spirit orbs, I will amplify your being… I can strengthen your life force, or your vitality. So tell me what it is that you desire.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link’s breath stutters, and he touches his shaking fingers to his chest, where he could still vaguely feel the spirit orbs’ power humming. A gift from the goddess… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“L… life force…” Link stammers, dropping his chin once more and folding his hands in front of him. “Please… strengthen my life force…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I shall grant the power you seek.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the hum of the spirit orbs is gone, and in Link’s chest there is a cavity, an empty space that felt startlingly cold before the cold was replaced with </span>
  <em>
    <span>warmth</span>
  </em>
  <span>, warmth like a passioned embrace, like the midday sun against his face, like the embers of the fire that kept him warm at night. It spreads, from his chest to his limbs, warmth filling his veins and his lungs as he breathes deeply. The warmth dissipates, leaving Link feeling more whole than he had been before, stronger and rejuvenated, like all the bumps and bruises and scrapes he had acquired over the last two days had never been there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go, and bring peace to Hyrule…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The light fades as does the presence of the goddess, and Link smiles in thanks. He stands and turns, fully ready now to face the old man, and advance in his quest. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link climbs to the roof of the temple via the rickety ladder on the outside. He resist the urge to sweat nervously as he picks across the creaking tiles of the roof, knowing it is far from stable, and resists the urge to look down, knowing it would not fare well for him if he fell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before him he can see the old man waiting in the bell tower, glowing blue against the stunning red and gold sunset all around them. He strides </span>
</p><p>
  <span> forward to meet him.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link is left reeling after the king fades away for good, practically swaying on his feet, hardly even aware of the paraglider in his hands. His mind feels… overloaded, stuffed too full of new information to process any of it, let alone all of it all at once. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old man was the long-deceased king of Hyrule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some reason, that didn’t do much to endear him to Link. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link was a champion. Is he still a champion? Can he still call himself so, with the ruins at his feet proof of his epic failure one hundred years ago?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Calamity Ganon… had taken everything from them, laid waste to Hyrule one hundred years ago, but not all is lost. Link has returned and with him he brings determination, and more importantly, hope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He centers himself, shakes the last few tremors from what the king had shown him away, and looks out over Hyrule again, the cursed castle in the distance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hundred years… he has been gone for one hundred years. Yet it doesn’t feel that way-- for everything the king had told him, events that Link had been present for… he still doesn’t remember any of it. There’s a block in his mind, some kind of impenetrable wall, sturdy and steep, keeping him from the memories of his past life… or the memories are simply gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does not know which option he prefers. Which is more comforting or which is more frightening. Link studies the paraglider in his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is </span>
  </em>
  <span>he still that champion from the king’s vision of the past? Is he still that knight, still that hero?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was he ever in the first place?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link doesn’t know, from the very core of his being he does not know, but he has run out of time to dwell on it. These are questions he will find answers to in time. Now, he must travel to Kakariko village.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfurling the paraglider with a sharp sound of fabric and wood unfolding, Link steps forward to the edge of the bell tower, </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaps</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- and flies.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>wapow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Link exercises poor judgement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Free now to leave the plateau and with a set destination in mind, Link is all too eager to begin his journey-- regardless of the rapidly falling night. That leads to a harsh lesson in patience, and knowing one's limits.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw- blood and near-drowning experiences</p><p>Once again huge thanks to my sibling who is also my beta reader! Ur a gem love u uwu</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Link’s feet touch down on the ground far, far too soon. He’s gasping even as he folds the paraglider back up and stows it away-- the wind whipping at his face with nothing underfoot, so high up, a strain in his arms that was just as foreign to him-- it was so exhilarating. He turns to look back at the temple from which he'd leapt, and startles to see how far he’d flown. The temple is far enough now that it’s beginning to fade into the distance, silhouetted by the sun setting behind it. He turns again, finding himself just a few paces from the edge of the plateau. </p><p> </p><p>He dashes forward, taking the paraglider out once again, so high on adrenaline and the taste of imminent freedom that he’s hardly even thinking about Calamity Ganon, or destiny, or anything like that-- he just feels like he can do anything. Link stops right as the toe of his boot hangs over the edge of the stone wall, braces himself to jump, paraglider at the ready, foolishly looks down, and-- hesitates. </p><p> </p><p>The thick fog below is only just beginning to fade, and he can see a faint impression of the ground below… so, so far below. Link gulps and looks back to the horizon, the dueling peaks in the distance, and looks back down. </p><p> </p><p>Link tightens his grip on the paraglider and sets his jaw, steeling himself for the jump. He’s a champion-- or at least he’s supposed to be-- he can’t afford to hesitate. He can’t afford fear. Not even of the unknown. </p><p> </p><p><em> I will not fear the unknown </em>. </p><p> </p><p>And with that conviction in mind, one he already knows he will carry with him throughout his journey, he jumps.</p><p> </p><p>As he descends and the fog clears, so does the cold grip of fear that held him back, taken over by the same wonder as he’d had when he flew the first time. Elation sweeps through him as he soars forward, watching the grassy hills and ruins pass beneath. He laughs.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the first time, within his memory, that he laughs. </p><p> </p><p>High pitched and giddy, the shock of the sound pulls forward even more laughter. Even as it fades to breathy giggles as he lands, the wide grin on his face remains. </p><p> </p><p>The tall grass rustles around him, silver in the light of the moon overhead, as he takes his first steps proper in the kingdom of Hyrule. He looks around. The king had spoken as if it was ruined, but Link still sees the same beauty in the land around him that he did when he first ran out into the sun. </p><p> </p><p>He’d touched down on a small hill, with no road in sight for him to follow, but he can still see dueling peaks ahead of him, a guiding beacon rising up from the horizon. Experimentally, Link takes out the slate and checks the map, but everything except for the plateau is still blank. He sighs, but he supposes he should have expected it. He’ll just have to find more of those towers, see if they will reveal more of the map. He already misses having a map.</p><p> </p><p>But there is no time to dwell on that, either. He must get to Kakariko village if he is to advance in his quest, if he is to get any closer to the destiny laid out for him. </p><p> </p><p>So he starts walking.</p><p> </p><p>It probably isn’t wise to travel on foot through the night, but it isn’t wise to settle down for the night in the open like this either, with no campfire, not knowing what’s lurking just outside the edges of his periphery. So he walks. Braces himself for a long, long night of it. </p><p> </p><p>He soon comes across a road, and debates following it. It’s leading to the side, and he wants to go forwards, but it might be an easier trek than going over every hill and small mountain in his path. It would take longer, but…</p><p> </p><p>He turns, and follows the beaten dirt road, ever keeping dueling peaks in sight. </p><p> </p><p>The road takes him around a corner and spits him out amongst more ruins. That’s when he spots the red monster-- a new one. </p><p> </p><p>It’s sleeping, he realizes as he creeps closer, cautious, and the sounds of its snores reaches his ears. It’s both very like and unlike the other monsters he’d seen, skin rough and bright red, and it looks like some kind of cousin-species. Except this monster is clearly much bigger, twice the size, and its snout is long where the other monsters’ are flat to their faces. </p><p> </p><p>He sneaks past it, footsteps slow and light on the cobblestone, knees bent and ready to run if he needs to, wary. He doesn’t want to have to fight this thing; he’s been awake since sunrise and he’s tired. But seeing this new monster here only infirmed his resolve to not stop and rest out in the open tonight.</p><p> </p><p>Link breathes a sigh of relief when it doesn’t wake up, and he moves on, dashing down the road until it’s far behind him. </p><p> </p><p>That’s where his luck runs out. </p><p> </p><p>Practically underfoot, the dirt shakes apart as something bone-white emerges from it, and Link staggers back. A skeletal facsimile of the monsters Link is familiar with bursts forth from the ground, screeching still somehow with no throat or lungs, and Link jumps at it, spear in hand. </p><p> </p><p>Grotesque, and unsettling it is, to be faced with a monster’s reanimated bones, but Link shakes the revulsion that distracts him away quickly, swinging his spear in a wide arc. It knocks the skele-monsters skull right off it’s body, but it doesn’t stop moving. Its body grabs blindly at him while its skull bounces along the dirt, clearly trying to reunite with the rest of itself. Link isn’t letting that happen. He ducks away from the skeleton’s searching claws and stomps with all his might on the skull.</p><p> </p><p>The thin bone on the top of the skull shatters and crumbles under his heel easily, the skull breaking into pieces with a sickening yet satisfying hollow <em> crunch </em>. Its eye sockets empty and the bones of its body fall apart, dead again. </p><p> </p><p>Most of it bursts away in smoke like its living counterparts would, but it leaves an arm behind. The arm continues to writhe on the ground, claws searching and grabbing at air… Link shudders, thoroughly creeped out. He leaves it there. </p><p> </p><p>Link is starting to believe this night is going to be simply full of obstacles and delays, because he barely takes a few steps more before he spots another one of those shrines, glowing orange just off the side of the road. </p><p> </p><p>Part of him is surprised and part of him isn’t. He hadn’t really considered the possibility of there being more of these shrines anywhere other than the plateau, but now that he’s faced with one it makes sense that there would be. He walks up to the pedestal and uses the slate to activate it, and the doors open, but he doesn’t go inside. He can come back later, he’s wasted enough time as it is. </p><p> </p><p>The moon is directly overhead, centered in the sky. It’s midnight already.</p><p> </p><p>The bridge he comes across is in mild disrepair, but standing strong still. On the other side and just a little further Link sees a glowing orange line of a sheikah tower, and he resolves to stop there on his way to Kakariko village. He would really like a map.</p><p> </p><p>The bridge is long and fairly high up, and the view from it is beautiful. Link pauses halfway cross, his eye on Hyrule castle in the distance. He looks away after barely a moment. He can’t make himself look at it for too long-- the tangible evil swirling around it serves as an uncomfortable reminder of what he must do, and it fills him with dread.</p><p> </p><p>Link moves on. On the other side of the bridge, there is a small, wall-less shelter and a lit campfire whose glow startles him. He drifts closer. </p><p> </p><p>There is a man sleeping next to the fire, blissfully unaware or perhaps confident in his safety from the horrors that stalk the night around them. The sight of another person is both jarring and a relief to Link. A real, living person… the old man didn’t count, because he was actually a spirit the whole time, and also the king, and also irritating. </p><p> </p><p>All of a sudden Link is made aware of his exhaustion. It manifests itself in a burning behind his eyes and leadened limbs, and the campfire is so, so tempting, that and this stranger’s clear sense of security, whether it is false or not.</p><p> </p><p>But… Link resists the temptation. He will not rest yet. He forces himself to keep going.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>As the tower gets closer in view, Link moves to walk along the edge of the riverbank. It’s a new moon, but what little light it does give off reflects on the rippling water, and Link walks along that line where the water meets the shore. The tower is on the other side of the river.</p><p> </p><p>Link groans.</p><p> </p><p><em> This is a bad idea </em>, he thinks as he stores his gear and undresses hastily, glancing over his shoulder every other second. He thanks the Goddess for being able to store it all in the slate, and prays to the Goddess that the slate is waterproof. </p><p> </p><p><em> This is a bad idea </em>, Link thinks again as he steps into the water, bare except for his belt with the slate securely attached, and acutely aware of his vulnerability in this state. </p><p> </p><p>The water is <em> freezing </em> cold, and moving fast, rushing around his ankles and trying to throw him off balance. Link tacks on an extra prayer to the Goddess: that he is as good a swimmer as he is a climber, or this is going to end very, very poorly. </p><p> </p><p>He wades further into the water, cold river made even colder by the dark cover of night, and all the hair on his body stands up on end, and as the water passes up to his chest Link has to fight to keep his lungs from seizing in the icy shock of water. He kicks off from there, swimming with the current to an extent even if it will take him a little downstream, knowing that trying to fight it would be even more idiotic than this whole thing already is.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he reaches the other side, he’s panting and gasping for air, hair wet against the back of his neck and <em> oh, that is probably not very good </em>, but he is definitely not tired anymore. He shivers violently as he takes a few seconds to try and shake himself dry like a dog, not much for towels on hand, and takes his clothes from the slate. </p><p> </p><p>He’s shaking so hard and his fingers are numb enough that he fumbles with the slate, accidentally presses the wrong buttons, and finds himself staring down at the screen with all the runes on it. </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>The bright blue of the cryonis rune seems to be laughing at him. He wastes nearly a minute just looking at it, gobsmacked and kicking himself. Faced with his stupidity, Link groans, and the exhaustion returns full-force. He furiously pulls his clothes back on, layering the loose warm doublet on as well in an attempt to stave off the chill clinging to his skin. He rubs his arms and clenches his teeth to keep them from chattering, and stomps nearly all the way to the tower.</p><p> </p><p>He has to go up onto a hill and paraglide to the base of the tower, because it’s in the middle of the goddess-damn river, but from there it’s a pretty basic climb. Though, Link notes, the platforms ascending around the side are different from the one on the plateau, and he wonders how many variations there are in the design of these towers.</p><p> </p><p>Link collapses, panting, when he finally reaches the top of the tower. His arms shake not from cold but overexertion, and his muscles are screaming. There’s a sharp ache in his gut that rudely reminds him that all he’s had to eat today, or technically yesterday now because it’s well past midnight, was that apple just before the cryonis shrine. </p><p> </p><p>If he’s going to survive out here, he’s going to have to stop forgetting to feed himself. </p><p> </p><p>And water, too. He’s going to need a provision of water. He doesn’t think he’s had anything to drink since he woke up, and the dehydration is starting to invite a headache to slam against the backs of his eyes. His mouth is so dry his tongue is practically sandpaper, and he thinks he can taste blood at the back of his throat. </p><p> </p><p>When he catches his breath enough to sit up, the first thing he does is check what he has for food. His prospects are… not very good. All he has is some fruit and some spicy peppers, and some herbs that don’t do him much good with nothing to cook them into. </p><p> </p><p>He takes out his last few apples-- they’re all he has that is still good raw, and he’s not so desperate for sustenance to make himself endure the texture of uncooked mushrooms. The apples are juicy, blessedly staving off some of his thirst even if they aren’t very filling. He eats all three, and is still hungry, but that is all he will have for now.</p><p> </p><p>The map Link retrieves when he activates the tower reveals things both good and bad. Good: he has come a long way in a single night, an astonishingly long way. Bad: the road is winding, and either Kakariko village is still far enough to not appear on this section of this map or it is not labelled on the map, neither of which are good options for him. </p><p> </p><p>At this point, Link’s decision to carry on with the leg of the journey is born almost completely out of spite. Up on this tower, he would be relatively safe from the monsters that he assumed could not climb very well, it would be easy to just lie down on the unforgiving stone and take at least a short nap-- but Link does not do this. Spite, some inexplicable urge to be cruel to himself, the reason doesn’t really matter, for Link unfurls the paraglider and jumps from the safe respite of the tower, aiming for the shore on the other side of the river, and the road that will, eventually, take him to Kakariko village.</p><p> </p><p>That was probably a mistake. No, most definitely a mistake. Link stumbles when his feet hit the ground, almost trips to his knees. He now finds himself in the gap separating the dueling peaks, and from now on, he will be leaving his landmark behind him.</p><p> </p><p>The gap is a wind tunnel. The wind itself is tolerable, it is not too chilly a night, but in his still-damp hair, only the wispy ends really beginning to dry, it’s biting. He takes his hair out of its ponytail in hopes that it’ll dry faster. He hunches his shoulders and keeps walking. </p><p> </p><p>It’s even darker between the twin peaks, the moon, that is starting to descend once again, hidden behind it’s towering stone. Dark enough that he doesn’t notice the anormal rippling in the water, And his exhaustion has dulled his senses enough he can’t distinguish the distant croaking of nocturnal frogs from the throaty sounds of the aquatic monsters that have their eye on him.</p><p> </p><p>They have been watching him for several minutes now. But to Link, the attack comes out of nowhere. And tired and sluggish as he is, he’s not fast enough to defend himself.</p><p> </p><p>Some kind of projectile hits him on the shoulder. Even through the layers of fabric it stings fiercely, and he stumbles. Another projectile slams into his chest. This one bowls him over, knocking the wind out of him when he lands harshly on his back. He vaguely noticies his doublet is wet. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a throaty, guttural noise echoed on itself, it’s a hiss and it’s a chirp and it's a screech. Link scrabbles backwards on the dirt road, fumbling for his spear. </p><p> </p><p>He hears a splash and something heavy and clawed lands on him. Whatever creature it is makes that sound again, right in his ear. It scratches at him, tearing at his clothes and his arms when Link throws them up to protect his face. He jabs blindly with his spear and hits air. He struggles and jerks, kicking out, trying to dislodge the beast attacking him. </p><p> </p><p>He succeeds in getting it off, but not in getting away. As soon as he tries to get to his feet, get himself in a less prone position for battle, the creature grabs his ankle in both its talons-- and a second one, making that same shrill battle cry, it grabs his other leg and together they drag him into the water. </p><p> </p><p>Link makes the mistake of gasping. Immediately water rushes into his lungs and he chokes, struggling to regain control. But that’s hard when the monsters are still pulling him in every direction, twisting his limbs and dragging him deeper. He thrashes in their hold. He can’t breathe.</p><p> </p><p>Searing pain races up his arm but Link can't scream-- blood flows and floats in the water, streaming out from around the sharp teeth embedded in his forearm. He can taste it. Blindly Link stabs at the space in the water just above where the pain is radiating from-- it’s a miracle he’s kept his hold on his weapon. </p><p> </p><p>He hits-- <em> something </em>, the tip of his spear penetrating something soft and squishy. He yanks his spear back as the monster wrenches its teeth out of his arm with a screech that reverberated strangely underwater. </p><p> </p><p>Lungs burning and desperate, Link twists free of the other monster’s grip as the first one’s body floats away. He kicks up back to the shore, coughs up water when his head breaches the surface. The monster tries to grab his ankles again but Link doesn’t let it get him a second time. </p><p> </p><p>Link pushes himself up onto his knees and twists, jabbing his spear into the dark sloshing water with all the force he can muster-- and hits his target dead on. </p><p> </p><p>The monster gurgles and slackens, falling back into the water and slipping beneath the surface, dead, taking Link’s spear with him.</p><p> </p><p>Link falls back onto the ground, out of breath, soaking wet once again, feeling-- and probably looking-- like a drowned rat. He rolls over onto his side and coughs out the water that had gone into his lungs.</p><p> </p><p><em> What… the hell… </em> <b> <em>were </em> </b> <em> those things!? </em> </p><p> </p><p>Link probably sounds pathetic with the way he’s greedily sucking in whole lungfuls of air. His throat burns and his chest hurts, he thinks he might have swallowed some gross river water, and he can still taste his own blood in his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>His arm is still bleeding, sluggishly, the fabric of his sleeves already soaked and stained red-- so dark it looks black in the night. And pain is still searing like fire licking at his skin. Link groans pitifully, clutching his wounded arm to his chest as he struggles to stand. </p><p> </p><p>All he wants to do is lie down and be unconscious for a few hours-- or a few days-- but he doesn’t have that luxury. That ambush is proof that it’s not safe out here. </p><p> </p><p>He should have stayed on the tower. Link really regrets not staying on the tower. </p><p> </p><p>He’s just going to find some kind of outcropping, some kind of little hole or crevice he can stuff himself into for the rest of the night. </p><p> </p><p>At first, Link thinks his eyes are adjusting to the dark, but when he spots a hint of colour in the sky between the duelling peaks, he realizes it’s actually just starting to get lighter out. He’s been walking <em> all night </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Link’s dead on his feet by the time he gets to the worn bridge. It takes a lot longer to get to that point than it should. It’s almost dawn and the sky is light, and, met with the diverging paths, Link lifts his head weakly. There’s no signpost to tell him which way to go, and his map won’t help him here. He bites back a whimper, feeling frustration rise in him. </p><p> </p><p>His arm fucking <em> hurts </em>. In fact, everything hurts, and he’s bleeding from more than one place, other aggravated scratches leaving little red spots on his clothes. He’s a mess.</p><p> </p><p>Something in his peripheral vision catches his eye. An inorganic structure, large and imposing, shaped vaguely like the head of a horse, rises high above the ground-- connected to some sort of squat building. </p><p> </p><p>Link is so relieved to see it he could cry. Weary, he turns and picks his way across the uneven and unrefined wooden bridge, clutching his arm, his eye on the structure the whole time. </p><p> </p><p>He’s vaguely aware that he’s limping.</p><p> </p><p>When Link falls to the ground in a bleeding heap, he’s not conscious to remember it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, a few things-- if I wrote about Link fighting every single monster you actually come across in the game, this fic would be literally nothing but Link fighting monsters. And I know there's another shrine where the lizalfos are, but if I wrote about every shrine in the game too then the fic would be nothing but Link doing shrines. So, when there's something new, I'll write about it, ie mentioning the moblin, and the fight scene with the lizalfos. Otherwise, unless it's plot relevant, for the sake of reducing redundancy and efficiency, I'm going to be ignoring a lot of the more menial stuff</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. gordon ramsey who???</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Calm after the storm</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Link feels when he wakes up, is vaguely smothered. He’s wrapped up in something soft and thick and warm, worn fabric tucked up around his shoulders. He feels like he’s lying on a cloud. </p><p> </p><p>He hears whispers. Link shifts and groans, and the whispers stop. He cracks his eyes open, squinting at the sudden light. There’s a teal canopy above him, and a design like a horse’s face, screen printed on, gazes unseeingly down at him. </p><p> </p><p><em> Where am I </em>? </p><p> </p><p>Link certainly has no recollection of how he got here… or who those children are. </p><p> </p><p>Two identical tiny faces stare down at him in wonder from either side of the bed, inching closer until they're hovering right over him. They don’t say anything, so Link doesn’t say anything, but raises a questioning brow at them both. </p><p> </p><p>Like a switch flipped, the children both spring backwards and squeal, almost scarily in sync. They run away, small feet making sharp little pattering noises on the wood floor, giggling all the while, and then they’re out of sight, disappearing through an open entryway. </p><p> </p><p>Link sits up, confusion overriding most of his other senses. He’s been tucked into a bed, under an old quilt, and all his clothes are neatly folded, dry, near the footboard, his belt and the sheikah slate piled on top. Well, not <em> all </em> of his clothes-- Link blushes-- he’s still got his underwear on. </p><p> </p><p><em> How did I get here </em>?</p><p> </p><p>He pushes the quilt down so it’s pooled around his waist, and notices the white bandages wrapped around his forearm. Link looks at it for a moment, its meaning not registering, until… suddenly, Link remembers last night-- how he’d walked through the night, the river, getting attacked, seeing the building, and then… nothing. <em> I must have just collapsed right there in the middle of the damn road, </em> Link thinks, and looks down at the bandages again, <em> and someone must have found me. That’s embarrassing…  </em></p><p> </p><p>Feeling his face warm, Link brings a hand up to touch self-consciously at his forehead. His hands touch fabric, and he frowns, peeling away the cloth stuck to his forehead. It smells nice, like sweet herbs. </p><p> </p><p>Link looks around, takes stock of his surroundings. He’s in a large round tent, it seems, built with wood supports. The structure he saw last night. There’s a short row of canopied beds like the one he’s in to his right, though there’s no one sleeping in them. At the foot of the bed next to his, there are two men huddled together, talking, but Link can’t make out what they’re saying. His shield, bow and quiver are propped against the wall to his left. Self conscious, Link reaches for his clothes, and tugs his shirt on. He has to hop out of the bed to pull on his pants, so he goes in the opposite direction of where those men are talking, and yanks his pants up, securing them hastily with the belt and clipping the slate in its rightful place.</p><p> </p><p>A voice from the other side of the tent has his head snapping to the side. “Hey, rise and shine, sleepyhead!” </p><p> </p><p>Behind a curved counter is a dark skinned man in a funny hat. He’s smiling at Link, who flushes and shuffles over to the counter so the man doesn’t have to shout across the tent to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm, thank you,” Link mumbles, and the man huffs a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“What, for letting you stay in the soft bed for free? No problem, kid. Normally that would cost extra, but, seeing as how you were injured and all, figured we could cut you a deal.” A smirk plays beneath the man’s full moustache.</p><p> </p><p>Link coughs, awkward, but grateful, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he has literally no money. “Again, thank you. And, for dressing my wounds.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that wasn’t me,” the man says. “That was Sagessa-- she’s the one who found you  too. She’s outside.” Then he sighs. “Seriously, kid, what were you thinking? Travelling alone at night, no horse, no provisions, no sword? That’s reckless, really reckless. You probably wouldn’t have died from your wound, apparently it didn’t even need stitches, but if one of us hadn’t found you then something a lot nastier would have. I swear, kids these days, no sense of caution…”</p><p> </p><p>The man trails off, leaving Link feeling thoroughly admonished. He hangs his head in shame. Yeah, last night was… a series of moments that were not his proudest. He just nods, and steps away to grab his gear, and remake the bed, before stepping outside. </p><p> </p><p>The bright afternoon sun assaults his eyes as soon as he leaves the shelter of the tent. He squints, shielding his eyes from the sun’s aggressive rays. A look around proves he’s at some sort of stable, which explains the horse imagery everywhere. There’s an orange glowing shrine in a pond a little ways away. He takes a deep breath, letting the cool, fresh air fill his lungs, which feel far less battered than he thinks they should. In fact, despite recent hardships, Link feels <em> great </em>. Maybe it had to do with the general aura of calm, peace, and safety of the stable and the area around it, like a beacon of serenity amidst the destruction wrought by Calamity Ganon.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you! You’re finally awake!” </p><p> </p><p>There’s a young woman sitting by a lit cooking pot off to the side, and Link goes to sit on the other rough wooden stool. “Are you Sagessa?” </p><p> </p><p>The young woman looks to be about Link’s age, with olive skin and light brown hair that comes down to just past her jaw. She has kind eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s me,” she says with a smile. “Welcome to Duelling Peaks stable! You gave us a real scare last night, you know.” </p><p> </p><p>Link rubs the back of his neck shyly. “Sorry… thanks for patching me up, though. That was kind of you.” </p><p> </p><p>Sagessa waves him off. “Oh, it was no trouble. I’m a healer-- or at least, training to be one. I’m actually self taught.” Now it’s her turn to look embarrassed. “I specialize in elixirs. Actually gave you a healing elixir last night, to make sure that bite didn’t get infected. Lizalfos bites can be really nasty if they go untreated. In fact, you should be fixed right up by now-- go ahead and unwrap those bandages.”</p><p> </p><p>Slightly puzzled, Link does as she says, unwrapping the gauze from around his forearm. To his surprise, what had been a nasty, painful wound last night is now almost completely healed, only pink pockmarks of skin left as evidence, more scars to add to his gallery of them. “Lizalfos?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pretty sure that’s what attacked you, at least. Between the bite and the scratches, and the fact that you had obviously been dunked in the river.”</p><p> </p><p>“So that’s what they were…” Link looks thoughtfully towards the dueling peaks. He catches Sagessa’s confused look in the corner of his eye.</p><p> </p><p>“You… don’t know… what Lizalfos are?” </p><p> </p><p>Link frowns. “Well I do <em> now </em>.” He all but snaps, feeling defensive, insecure about the gap in his knowledge. Sagessa shrugs. </p><p> </p><p>“Lizalfos are the scaly, amphibious monsters with the curved horns. There’s all kinds of them, like ones that spit fire or electricity at you-- those ones aren’t very common around these parts, though.” Sagessa explains, picking up a nearby stick and aimlessly poking around in the dirt with it. She explains the different kinds of monsters around Hyrule patiently, not looking at Link as she did, so he won’t feel put on the spot. </p><p> </p><p>There are all kinds of monsters around Hyrule, apparently, and all kinds of variants of those monsters. It all makes his head spin a little, to be honest. </p><p> </p><p>“This area is nice and quiet, but there are still monsters wandering around, and the area near Hyrule Castle is especially dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>Sparks fly from the fire under the cooking pot, carried by a breeze that swept over them. For some reason, the woman’s words have his gaze glued to them.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re going to be travelling, you should know a thing or two about them.” Sagessa concludes, finally looking back at Link. Link looks back at her. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. You can make elixirs by mixing bugs and other small creatures with monster parts. They can have pretty unique effects-- some caan make you move faster, some can make you resistant to extreme temperatures… it’s a neat mix of magic and science. Here,” Sagessa digs around in her pack for a moment, before pulling out a glass bottle half-filled with a rich red liquid, too iridescent to be mistaken for blood. She hands it to him. “I use hasty elixirs a lot, but if you’re injury-prone, then this will probably fare you better. Leftovers from the healing potion I used on you last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Link accepts it gratefully with a nod of his head. He tucks it on the ground by his feet, wary to use the slate’s unnatural tools around other people. He is about to say something when his stomach grumbles obnoxiously. He wraps both arms around his torso, trying to suppress the noise, face red and eyes wide. Sagessa laughs. </p><p> </p><p>“Want some lunch?” </p><p> </p><p>Link nods enthusiastically. Sagessa laughs again. “Let’s cook something, then. Got any ingredients on you?”</p><p> </p><p>Link nods again, and Sagessa grins as she gets to her feet. “Great! I’ll be back in a second, you get your stuff ready and we’ll see what we can make.”</p><p> </p><p>She walks around towards the back of the stable, and Link, as stealthily as he can, gets out his slate and retrieves some peppers, mushrooms and herbs. He settles the stuff on his lap and puts the slate back at his hip, just as Sagessa comes back, a few cuckoo eggs and some wrapped goat butter in her arms. </p><p> </p><p>“Everything at these stables is free for communal use,” she says as she sets the eggs down in the grass, then unwraps the butter and places the slightly lumpy block in the cooking pot. It immediately begins to melt and sizzle. “Oh, you have hot peppers, nice! Those are pretty rare.” She hands him a small knife, and a pot lid, overturned. “Get chopping, Lizal boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Link gets chopping. He watches with heightened interest as Sagessa cracks the eggs into the pan, then grabs a large wooden spoon and starts scrambling them with the melted butter. She smiles a little sheepishly. “For all my skills with alchemy, I’ll have to confess I’m not that great a cook, so sorry if it tastes a little funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Want me to take over?” Link offers, and Sagessa looks at him in mild surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“You can cook?” </p><p> </p><p>Link shrugs. “Well, I think I probably can.” He takes the spoon from Sagessa’s hand and passes her the improvised cutting board. He stirs the eggs, then leaves them like that for the moment while he crushes some of the herbs between his fingertips and sprinkles them into the eggs. The motions come to him as easily as fighting does which makes Link suspect he may have one upon a time trained as diligently in the kitchen as he did with a sword. </p><p> </p><p>He can feel Sagessa’s eyes on him as he concentrates on the cooking pot, and he resists the urge to squirm, but doesn’t call her on it, even as she hands him the chopped mushrooms and peppers and stares at him all the while.</p><p> </p><p>She speaks up as he’s stirring the last ingredients in with the almost-done eggs. “You’re a pretty mysterious guy, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>Link pauses in his stirring to shoot her a quizzical look, but Sagessa is looking away, pulling out two wide stoneware bowls that have seen better days from her bag, and two forks. She continues, “I mean, the way you talk, and… I noticed your scars, last night. You have a lot of them… and I know it’s not really any of my business, but, well. I mean, you haven’t even told me your name.”</p><p> </p><p>He… had forgotten. To introduce himself. Link resists the urge to smack his forehead. “Oh, uh, I’m Link.”</p><p> </p><p>“Link,” Sagessa repeats. “Neat. So, Link, you some kind of warrior?”</p><p> </p><p>Clamming up, Link looks back down at the pot, and resolutely begins to scoop the scrambled eggs into the bowls, silent. </p><p> </p><p>“I see you’re a man of few words.” Sagessa chuckles. “It’s okay. I won’t pry. You’re entitled to your past.” She accepts the bowl Link hands her and trades him a fork. She doesn’t notice the bitter look that flashes across his face, there for only a second before disappearing again. He takes a bite of his eggs and doesn’t say anything else.</p><p>
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</p><p>The man who gives directions said that Kakariko village is about an hour away on horseback, so Link needs a horse. He’s crouching in the tall grass in the field behind the stable, eyeing the wild horses milling about, occasionally bending down to nibble at the grass or tossing their manes in the breeze, flicking their tails.</p><p> </p><p>They’re all beautiful. Link watches them all with an eye as admiring as it is critical, enraptured by their shiny coats even as he tries to discern which horse he wants to tame.</p><p> </p><p>The young twins had told him that mono-coloured horses, while harder to tame, are generally stronger beasts than ones with mottled pelts, so it’s those ones that Link watches more closely. Like the cooking, Link has no memory of taming horses, but he feels drawn to them, feels a connection to them even from a distance, and he is confident he will be able to tame any horse here. </p><p> </p><p>One of the horses nearby has his attention in particular. The mare-- he’s fairly certain it’s a mare-- rears up on her hind legs, and the sun behind her shines around her fine black coat and highlights her fine white mane, transforming her into an elegant and awe-inspiring silhouette. As she returns her front hooves to the ground with grace, Link makes note of the strength she clearly possesses. </p><p> </p><p>She’s a wild creature, fierce and beautiful. Wilder, stronger and faster, than the other steeds around her. And Link is sure in that moment, that he and this horse are meant for each other.</p><p> </p><p>He stalks forward in the grass as silently as he can, approaching the horse with caution. He’s confident, but is careful not to be overconfident. A kick from even an average horse to the sternum could very well kill him. </p><p> </p><p>He waits until he’s positioned right at her flank, wary of where she stomps at the grass, then in one swift movement, leaps up onto her back and gets a hold of her mane. Immediately the mare starts whinnying and bucking,trying to dislodge him, but Link just grips tighter with his thighs and reaches one hand down to pat soothingly at her neck, and makes reassuring noises in her ear. </p><p> </p><p>Just when he thinks he isn’t going to be able to hold on any more the horse starts to calm. Her frenzied movements slow to a stop as she accepts his presence on her back, and Link smiles. He gives her another pat, and steers her back towards the stable so he can tackle his next obstacle: registering the horse.</p><p> </p><p>The whole system had been explained to him already and he understands it all fine-- Link’s only problem is that he doesn’t have any fucking money.</p><p> </p><p>“If I get off here, do you promise not to run off?” Link asks the horse once they’ve stopped by a fence. The horse tosses him a look over her shoulder, and Link laughs. “Alright, alright.”</p><p> </p><p>He dismounts, landing lightly in the grass, and the horse shuffles in place a bit but doesn’t look like she’s going to bolt. Satisfied that he’s not going to come back to find his horse disappeared, Link wanders off, looking around the stable to try and see if there are any ways he can make an easy 20 rupees. </p><p> </p><p>Sagessa had said that everything here is for communal use, and out of the cooking pots, the materials around, the bathroom out back, the beds and the horse boarding service, only the last two things require payment. She hadn’t said anything about ways to make money, though, so Link fears he may be up a creek until he spots a man with an enormous, strangely shaped backpack-contraption coming down the road towards the stable.</p><p> </p><p>Link waits until the man is actually at the stable before going up to him. When he realizes Link is approaching him, the man’s face lights up entirely, eyes bright and smiling. Link gives him a wave, and the man, even hunched over under the weight of his huge bag, responds with great amounts of enthusiasm.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance! The name’s Beedle, but you can call me-- actually, let’s just stick with Beedle. But even if you forget my face, you can remember me by my beetle-shaped backpack!” Beedle laughs, and Link raises an eyebrow at him but smiles all the same. The other man’s cheer is infectious, even if he does seem like kind of a weirdo. “Despite these dangerous times, you’ll find me travelling all over Hyrule to fulfill your shopping needs. I stock many special bugs and must-have items for travelers and I always charge a fair price, or my name’s not Beedle! I also buy all sorts of things, if you’re in need of rupees. How can I help you today?”</p><p> </p><p>Link nods along to Beedle’s sales pitch, and perks up a little when he mentions buying things as well. “All sorts of things, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Beedle gives him a thumbs up. “Yep! I’ll buy pretty much anything!”</p><p> </p><p>“Perfect,” Link pulls out his sheikah slate before really thinking better of it. “What can you give me for these monster parts?” </p><p> </p><p>Beedle watches in surprise as Link pulls the handful of horns and teeth from seemingly thin air, and Link flushes when he realizes what he just did. “You, uh… you’re not prone to gossip, are you?” </p><p> </p><p>Relief cuts through him when Beedle shakes his head. “Not particularly. Er-- that’s a real nifty device you’ve got, there.” </p><p> </p><p>Link just shrugs, not wanting to drag out this leg of the conversation any further. He holds out his handful of monster bits a little more insistently. Beedle blinks. </p><p> </p><p>“Right! Uh, let’s see here…” Beedle takes the horns and teeth in both his hands and counts them, mumbling under his breath as he does the math. “I can offer you… 47 rupees for these!” </p><p> </p><p>That was actually quite a bit more than he was expecting. Link nods. Beedle puts the parts away, somewhere, Link’s not sure if he even has any room in that overstuffed pack of his, and gives Link the rupees. </p><p> </p><p>“Anything else?” Beedle asks, and Link shakes his head, putting the slate away. The travelling merchant grins all the same. “Okay, have a nice day!”</p><p> </p><p>Link waves as he walks away and goes to retrieve his horse. She’s still waiting where he left her, good girl, and as a reward Link takes out one of the apples he had gotten from a crate along the side of the stable. He offers it to her, holding it just under her nose, and she sniffs it a little before taking it into her mouth, nuzzling Link’s hand as she ate the apple in a few swift crunches. Link smiles and pets her mane, then leads her over to the front of the stable. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” The man behind the counter says when Link approaches with the horse. “You wanna register that horse?”</p><p> </p><p>Link nods, and the man pulls a piece of paper out from under the counter, and taps the tip of a quill to its surface. “What should we put down as the name?”</p><p> </p><p>That gives Link pause, as he hasn’t thought even a little about a name for the horse yet. He looks back at her, takes in her sleek black coat and her snowy-white mane. He walks around to stand in front of her, places both hands on her cheeks and stares up into her dark eyes, searching. </p><p> </p><p>“Nyx.” </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, and that’s 20 rupees for the registration fee, and covering the saddle and such,” The man looks expectantly at Link, who plunks a red rupee down on the counter. The man takes it and puts it away out of sight. “Paperwork’s all settled, then. You can bring Nyx here round back and the kids’ll help fit her with some gear.” </p><p> </p><p>Link nods again, and does as instructed. Nyx fusses a little while getting the bridle all strapped on, and Link ends up doing pretty much all the work because the kids can’t reach anything, but their running commentary is at the very least entertaining. By the time he’s ready to go, it’s getting to be just past dinnertime. </p><p> </p><p>A man Link hasn’t talked to yet calls out to him as he waves goodbye to Sagessa and leads Nyx by the reins to the road. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna wanna be careful travelling tonight,” The man says when Link is halfway into the saddle, a slightly manic look in his eye. “Something is going to happen tonight. I can <em> taste </em>it.”</p><p> </p><p>Link just looks at him in confusion and a little bit of alarm. He gives him a tense nod as he finishes climbing into the saddle, hoping he’s just imagining the red tinge to the man’s pupils. </p><p> </p><p>The rest of his journey to Kakariko village is fairly unremarkable. It’s much easier and much faster now that he has a horse, and there isn’t really anything in the way of trials along the way, which is a pleasant contrast from his journey last night. However, as the clopping sound of Nyx’s hooves on the worn and mossy stone bridge fill his ears, accompanied by birds chirping in the distance, he thinks more on what that man had said to him as he left. <em> Something is going to happen tonight… What does that mean </em>? </p><p> </p><p>Either way, Link doesn't plan on travelling through the night again. The sun hasn’t even started to set, and he’ll be at Kakariko village soon enough. Then he can talk to this Impa, and he will be one step closer to defeating Calamity Ganon, and finally bringing peace to Hyrule. His afternoon spent at the stable had been a nice respite, but he needs to focus on his task.</p><p> </p><p>Focus eludes him when he spots a strange, forlorn looking creature standing on the side of the road. Curious, Link pulls on Nyx’s reins until she slows to a stop in front of the large creature. They don't react to his presence, and they don't look like any of the monsters Link has seen so far, or heard about. They don't seem to have any eyes, and a large leaf tacked on their face resembles a beard in shape. They seem to be part tree, and have a bag slung over their shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Um, hello?” </p><p> </p><p>The creature jolts when Link speaks to them. “Shalaka?! You! You can see me?!” They cry. Link looks at them with a puzzled twist to his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“No, I can’t see you.” He drawls. The sarcasm goes right over the creature’s… canopy? </p><p> </p><p>“<b> <em>Sholoko</em> </b>?!” It exclaims, so loudly it startles Nyx. Link soothes her as the creature continues to speak. “Then how are you talking to me, silly?”</p><p> </p><p>Link can’t argue with that one. </p><p> </p><p>“Shala-zah! Shala-ka!” The creature sings. “It’s been 100 years since anyone has been able to see me! I’m Hestu, and I need your help. Those monsters over there stole my beloved maracas. I think they’re still there on the other side of those rocks. I can’t use my powers without them. Shoko… so please… PLEASE get my maracas back from them!”</p><p> </p><p><em> I swear, if this is a trap… </em> Link looks suspiciously between Hestu and the rocks they had pointed to. With a sigh, he leads Nyx over to the shade of the tree and dismounts, trekking further up the hill towards the rocks. </p><p> </p><p>He hears the monsters before he sees them, bokoblins from the sound of it. Knowing it would be unwise to just rush into a camp before having a visual, Link scampers up the side of the rock and crawls on his belly to the edge, so he can see what he’s getting into. </p><p> </p><p>Immediately upon spotting them, Link frowns-- they’re blue. Not the weak red bokos he was more familiar with. According to Sagessa, these ones are supposed to be stronger than their red counterparts.</p><p> </p><p>It’s cause for concern. Link doesn’t really know quite what he’s up against. Sagessa had said they were stronger, but she couldn’t say how strong-- she wasn’t a fighter. He makes sure he has his claymore ready, and, still on his stomach above the monsters, unnoticed, draws the soldier’s bow he had taken from the temple’s bell tower.</p><p> </p><p>He notches an arrow and squints one eye shut, watching carefully the monsters that are dancing around in circles. He settles on a target. Pulls the string back, ready to fire. </p><p> </p><p>Aims for the head. </p><p> </p><p>Takes a deep breath… </p><p> </p><p>And lets the arrow fly. </p><p> </p><p>It meets its target, sharp tip of the arrow piercing the skull of one of the bokoblins with an audible <em> thunk </em>, with enough force to send it sprawling, dead. Link barely registers the smoke as he puts away his bow and leaps to his feet, taking advantage the other two bokoblins’ confusion to leap down from the boulder, claymore gripped in both hands. </p><p> </p><p>Their confusion doesn’t last long. Link lands between the two bokoblins-- one armed with a simple club and the other with a high quality sword-- the one with the sword automatically registers with him as a bigger threat. If that thing gets even one good hit on him, he’d be in trouble. And Sagessa’s healing elixir can only do so much. He uses his claymore to block a strike from the one with the sword, seeing in the corner of his eye the second one raising its club to strike.</p><p> </p><p>He uses their weapons’ point of contact to shove the first bokoblin backwards, then spins to meet the second's blow head on. He meets the club with the sharp blade of his claymore on its downward swing, and the soft wood sticks on his blade. </p><p> </p><p>Link smirks when the second bokoblin seems confused that it can’t pull it’s weapon back, and Link drags it out of its hands, swinging, using the momentum to fling the club away into the grass.</p><p> </p><p>Instinct, and an ear-grating battle cry from behind, tells Link to duck, and he ducks just as the first bokoblin’s sword goes swinging right where his head was. On his way back up he twists, slamming hard into the second bokoblin with his shoulder and swinging his claymore at the first one. It dodges, but his intention hadn't been to hit it-- it was to put enough space between them. </p><p> </p><p>While the first one tries to regain its footing Link strikes out with a vicious back kick at the second one, his foot hitting it right in the gut and sending it toppling to the ground. As soon as both his feet are back on the ground in the right stance Link lunges forward with his weapon at the first bokoblin. </p><p> </p><p>He misses-- kind of. He’d been aiming for its heart, or at least where he thinks it’s heart is, but the tip of his blade buries itself deep in its shoulder instead. The bokoblin lets out a squeal that has Link gritting his teeth. He yanks his blade back out and the bokoblin stumbles, and in the same maneuver Link spins and plunges his claymore right into the center of the second one’s chest. It makes the same squealing sound and starts to shrivel away in smoke. Link spins again and knocks the last Bokoblin’s sword out of his hand, switching to a single-handed grip and letting gravity do the work. With his now-free hand Link grabs the bokoblin’s floppy ear tightly in a fist, and yanks it, pulling the screeching monster in a circle to build momentum before all but<em> launching it </em> as hard as he can off the side of the cliff next to them. It falls down, down, down… and then it’s over. </p><p> </p><p>The eyes of the stylized chest on the lookout post flash.</p><p> </p><p>Link sighs as he sheathes his claymore once more, and picks through the grass for what the monsters left behind. There’s the usual horns and fangs, but something new, too-- guts. </p><p> </p><p>He wrinkles his nose in disgust even as he grabs them in his hands and stores them. Gross… but cool. </p><p> </p><p>He also collects the sword that Bokoblin dropped-- he recognizes it, it’s a knight’s broadsword. </p><p> </p><p><em> Must know it from my knight days, </em> Link thinks as he swaps his claymore for the sword. Its weight on his back feels more natural than the ungainly claymore did. There’s also a soldier’s shield propped against the trunk of the tree, that none of the bokoblins had bothered to grab when the fight started. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t even bother with the boko spear lying in the grass, that had been dropped when he sniped that first bokoblin. </p><p> </p><p>Link marches over to the lookout post and climbs up the ladder, kicking open the chest. Sure enough, inside are a pair of red maracas. He grabs them and jogs back down to where Hestu is waiting. As soon as Link is in sight, they perk up. </p><p> </p><p>“SHALA-KALA! Those are… those are my maracas!” They start wiggling happily. “Please giiiiive them to meeeeeeeeeeee!” </p><p> </p><p><em> Please doooon’t randomly turn out to be eeeeeevil </em>… Link thinks as he hands them over. Hestu takes them and wiggles even harder, singing in that gleeful way of theirs-- then they droop. “But wait! There’s something wrong with my maracas! The korok seeds inside are gone! How am I supposed to dance now? Shoko…”</p><p> </p><p>Link feels bad for them. They just seem like such an innocent… creature, and they just look so sad.</p><p> </p><p>“If I had just one korok seed, I could sing, dance, and use my powers to help you…” They then go on to explain their powers, and about the, quote-unquote, children of the forest, and their pranks, and the korok seeds… and Link finds himself promising to find the korok seeds and return them to Hestu, who absolutely lights up when Link says so.</p><p> </p><p>With that strange-on-many-levels interaction behind him, Link gets back on Nyx and starts on the road to Kakariko village once again. He’s almost there, he knows, just a few more twists and turns on this mountain road and then he’ll be there. </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, it’s not long before the ornamental arches of the village’s entrance come into view. Link passes under them with Nyx slowed to a walk, and for the first time in his memory, sees Kakariko village.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>fyi in this fic, and this is purely headcanon, Link is about 19/20 because I look at him and his crackhead behaviour and I go "yeah, thats a college student right there"<br/>He is also a horse girl but I hate horses irl so I hope I was able to do that aspect of his character justice<br/>More liberties taken: npc dialogue babeyyy. what kind of story would this be if everyone said the same thing every time he talked to them? a boring one.<br/>Sorry for the skyrim reference.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. local bisexual disaster embarrasses herself in front of cute hero, not clickbait</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link finally arrives in Kakariko village, and meets Impa. The blood moon rises.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s almost like walking into a separate bubble of reality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the distance, Link can hear someone playing some sort of flute instrument, the music calm and soothing carried on the breeze. The whole village is set in a small valley, literally and figuratively sheltered from the post-apocalyptic world on the other side of the mountains. It looks and feels like a safe place, untouched by the ravages of Calamity Ganon. Link hops off Nyx and goes right up to the fence, looking down at the village. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That eye symbol is everywhere, and Link assumes he was right to guess it’s the symbol of the Sheikah people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link whistles for his horse to follow him as he turns towards the next arch, where there is a sizable campfire burning. His pace quickens, alarmed, when he notices the old woman on the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, miss-- are you alright?” Link crouches next to her, not quite hovering, and the woman looks up at him with the kind of smile only elderly women are capable of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Traveller! I’m sorry, but I seem to have twisted my ankle…” She says, “Hmm, let’s see here…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she brushes him off and stands on her own, hands folded calmly behind her back. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” The old woman is quite short, considerably shorter than Link, which is a feat, and is wearing robes and a hat of a style that must be unique to the Sheikah people. Link offers her a small smile and a tilt of his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” he says. He’s about to ask if she knows where Impa is when she glances down towards his waist, and her eyes flash with recognition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say, traveller, where did you get that… object hanging from your waist?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks down at the slate attached to his belt, then back up to meet the scrutinizing eyes of the old woman. “Well, you see…” Link begins, giving her an abridged version of the events of the first day he awoke. Strange to think that was only three days ago. The old woman strokes her chin, deep in thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I see…” She nods, as if there is nothing shocking about any of this-- and maybe to her, there isn’t. “That Sheikah Slate is a symbol. It means you are the hero of legend. Though there are few who know of such legends anymore… But we Sheikah have been waiting for you for a very long time. Please… before all else, I must insist that you meet with our leader, Lady Impa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods. “Yes, that is what I have come here to do.” He speaks formally. “Where is she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old woman turns towards the village, and Link follows her gaze to the largest, most ornate house out of all the ornate houses. “Lady Impa’s house is below Lantern Falls-- just over there.” She turns back to him with a smile. “In any case… it was a real honour to meet you. Heh, I suppose you're used to that, having lived as long as you have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to suppress a wince at that as he nods and leads Nyx further into the village. For some reason, the old woman’s expression of honour doesn’t sit well with him. He feels undeserving of it-- he’s been absent for 100 years while Calamity Ganon’s evil power laid waste to these people's homes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well-- maybe not </span>
  </em>
  <span>these </span>
  <em>
    <span>people's homes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Link thinks as he leaves Nyx with a couple of apples underneath a tree with drooping branches and leaves. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just from looking at this place, you wouldn’t know Calamity Ganon had struck at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs and descends further into the village, walking towards Impa’s house with a forced steady gait. He’s nervous. He doesn't know what this Impa will say to him… or if, with his fractured mind, she will deem him inadequate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are two guards stationed at the steps leading up to the house, dressed just like the old woman, and they see him coming from a distance and tense immediately. Link, obviously an outsider, must stick out like a sore thumb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Link gets closer, one of them starts to shout, “You there! Who are you!? How dare you trespass upon Lady Impa’s abode!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link startles. The man seems to pause. “Hm? Is that… a Sheikah Slate? But that would mean you are… No,  it’s not possible. Can it be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link hovers one hand over the slate attached to his hip and nods. Both guards relax, looking apologetic, and the other one speaks, “Please forgive us for behaving so rudely. Of course we have heard the legends from Lady Impa herself. Please, friend… Go ahead and step inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards step out of the way and Link nods again to them both as he passes between them, and makes his way up the steps towards Impa’s home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the top of the steps, there is a girl calmy polishing the wood of the deck. Her hair is as stark white as the other people’s he’s seen here, and she’s dressed in the same style. She looks to be about Link’s age. She doesn’t notice him coming until he reaches the top of the steps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl looks up and practically jumps out of her skin, leaping to her feet and looking like she’s about to make a run for it. For a second, Link worries he's scared her-- before he spots the red steadily taking over her entire face. She shrieks and covers her face with her hands. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>A man</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She peeks between her fingers. “Huh? Is that--?!” She lowers her hands completely, revealing the red tattoo on her forehead. “It’s… a Sheikah Slate!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So far, every sheikah Link has encountered seems more surprised to see the slate-- and him-- than the last. If this keeps up at this rate, Link fears Impa will have a heart attack and keel over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could you be the hero my grandmother told me about? What was his name? Li… Lin… Ummm…” She buries her face in her hands once again, somehow blushing even harder than she was before. “Oh, it’s not that I forgot… I’m just bad with speaking. As for me, my name is Pa… Paaa… Paaay… Oh! My name is Paya! Phew! I got it out… I know I should be able to say that easily seeing as how it’s my own name and all.” Paya looks to the side, face still blazing red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as she starts to calm down, Link smiles at Paya, and she shrieks again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya looks away, obviously embarrassed. “I-- sorry…” She mumbles. “Anyway, my grandmother’s been waiting for your return ever since I was little. Plea… please hurry inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she gestures to the door and hides behind her hands again. Link goes up to the double doors and pushes them open. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Impa is not shocked to see him in the slightest. She smiles under the wide brim of her hat, and says as if she had been expecting him at this very moment, “...So, you’re finally awake.” She looks up at him and smiles. “It has been quite a long time, Link. I am much older now, but… you remember me, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link says nothing, can think of nothing to say. He hadn’t anticipated that Impa would have known him from before… and a pang of regret goes through him. Impa notices his hesitation as he remains frozen in the doorway. “What is the matter?” She says. “You are looking at me as though I am a stranger to you. Those eyes, they lack the light of familiarity. It is, I, courageous one. Impa. Surely you must at least remember the name Impa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still Link says nothing, and Impa’s eyes widen. “I see… so you have lost your memory. Well, it matters not. In fact, that may actually be a blessing in disguise for the time being.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link frowns. How could losing his entire memory possibly be a blessing?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dearest Link,” Impa sighs, “please come a bit closer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link does as she says, stepping forward until he stands right in front of the platform Impa is sitting on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A hundred years ago…” She begins, and Link mentally prepares himself to hear the same sordid tale the king had told him already. “Yes… a hundred years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Link has to fight to keep his face neutral, and not show his frustration. He knows that, already!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After you fell, Princess Zelda’s final wish was to place you in a sacred slumber. And then… all alone… Alone she went to face Ganon. Before Princess Zelda went to nobly meet her fate, she entrusted me with some words she wished to say to you. I have been waiting 100 years to deliver the princess’ message. However!” Impa leans forward, “These words, which the princess risked her life to leave you… well, if you are to hear them… you must be prepared to risk your life as well. But I am afraid that burden may be too much to bear while you are still without your memories.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A part of Link, upon hearing this, wants to shrivel up and die. This is exactly what he feared-- that Impa will deem him inadequate. He wants to speak up, to tell her she’s wrong-- he will not fail again, memories or no.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I leave the choice to you,” Impa says. “When you feel you are ready to receive the princess’ message, return to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link steps forward. “I am ready now!” He says with as much conviction as he can muster, and Impa’s eyes widen dramatically again. If she is surprised by his outburst, or the fact that he actually spoke at all, he doesn’t know. Then, it passes, and Impa laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a memory to your name, yet you are as intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and justice on your side.” She smiles at him, like she expected this. Link wonders if this was a test. “You have not changed a bit. Once a hero, always a hero.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately Link does not feel the same-- he doesn’t think he will ever live up to the standard that these people have set for him, the expectation for him to be the same valiant knight that he was 100 years ago. But even still, Link is absolutely going to do his best, and whether he is whole or not, he will do whatever it takes to defeat Calamity Ganon once and for all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The people of Hyrule deserve a better hero than him, but he is all they have, and he will not let them down again. He will not fail again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well. Since you have lost your memory, I will recount for you all that has happened…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Impa tells him the story of what happened not one hundred years ago, but ten thousand. She pulls out a large and worn tapestry full of ancient intricate markings that illustrate the story of the princess and hero from ten thousand years ago. It was probably once white, but yellowed with age, and the colours of the thread that detailed the tale have faded with time. Impa points along the tapestry as she speaks, and Link listens attentively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she tells him of how they had tried to follow in their ancestors’ footsteps 100 years ago, but ultimately failed. How they had underestimated his power.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In order to avoid ever making that grave mistake again, the princess left you these words: </span>
  <em>
    <span>free the four divine beasts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That is what she said.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was a lot of buildup for literally five words, but Link doesn’t dwell on that. “Where are they?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Scattered across Hyrule, same as the four races the divine beasts were entrusted to. Your Sheikah slate will guide you; travel to these corners of Hyrule and speak with the respective leaders there. They will be able to help you more than I.” She gestures for him to pass her the slate and he does, and she opens the map, putting down four blinking points in the far reaches of the blank areas on the map. She frowns. “It seems to me that your Sheikah slate is not yet complete. The device Princess Zelda left you is your guide and also your memory.” As she speaks, she swipes through pages on the slate, finding the corrupted areas. Then she passes it back to Link, and he clips it into place on his belt once again. “Now, let’s see… someone at the research lab in Hateno village might be able to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hateno village?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A village on the eastern ridge. It is a small village, one of the very few places that avoided suffering significant damages during the Great Calamity.” Impa gives him a grave look. “You are Princess Zelda’s only hope, and Hyrule’s, as well. You cannot turn back now. Follow your heart and seize your destiny!” She says as if Link does not already know that. As if Link had been considering running away and becoming a hermit in the mountains instead of completing this quest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Link doesn’t voice any of that. Instead he gives her an equally grave nod, turns, and walks out the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Night had fallen while he was talking to Impa, the sun already set and the sky dark. Kakariko village at night is far from dark, though, lanterns hung all around bathing the little valley village in a warm orange glow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are two things that Link is thinking about right now: food, and finding a place for Nyx and him to sleep at night. He doesn't plan on travelling through the night again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Food is the objective that has most of Link’s focus at the moment. He still has some ingredients on hand but not really enough to make a proper dinner, and the stores would all be closed by now. It’s what he’s got, though, and he’ll just have to make the most of it for now. He’ll have to stock up again in the morning before he leaves. He goes and crouches by the fire in front of Impa’s house, takes out the stick he mostly uses for roasting things anyway, and the last of his peppers and mushrooms, and some herbs. He puts together a skewer, crushes and sprinkles some herbs over it, and holds it over the fire to roast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a couple of minutes he shifts so he’s sitting cross-legged on the ground instead, not really caring about grass stains on his pants. He rotates the skewer, holds it a little closer to the flames so the vegetables with char a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t really turn out as good as Link had hoped it would-- the mushrooms are a little dry and tough-- but he eats it anyway. He’s very aware of the fact that people are watching him from their places around the village and from the windows of their homes. Word probably travels fast in a place like this, and Link is certain they’re whispering about him right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he’s done, he gets up and brushes off his pants, and goes to fetch Nyx. She’s still waiting for him under the tree, and Link smiles at her, and gives her a couple of pats to show his appreciation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to do some asking around, but eventually someone leads him to a small stable where travellers and merchants can board their steeds while they stay in the inn next to it. It’s currently empty, but looks cozy and well-maintained, so Link happily forks over the 20-rupee fee for a stall for Nyx. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's only as he’s leading Nyx to her stall and taking off  her gear for the night that he realizes that put him down to only seven rupees-- and he doesn’t need to ask to know that that is definitely not enough for a bed at the inn. He looks around. The man that led him here has already disappeared into the inn. He’s probably not supposed to do this, but… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Nyx is settled into the hay, lying down with her legs tucked in, Link follows suit, stacking his weapons and gear in the corner. He places another apple near her head for her to eat if she wants it, a treat to go along with the feed that came with the stall, and leans back against her warm tummy. He sighs, and wriggles to settle in further, crossing his arms over his chest and his legs at the knees. Nyx turns her head to nuzzle him, and Link smiles. He tilts his head back against the horse’s side and lets his eyes slip shut, planning on getting a proper night’s sleep and then leaving for Hateno as soon as he can in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Something awakens him again less than two hours later. A stirring in the air-- Nyx must sense it too, because she shifts and whinnies nervously behind him. Link opens his eyes, and catches a glimpse of the night sky outside the stable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link jumps to his feet, disturbing the hay around him as he dashes forward and catches himself on the half wall of the stable, his whole upper body leaning out into the night, wanting to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he’s not just seeing things. The moon rising high in the sky is not just full when the night before it was barely a sliver, but it’s also blood red, bleeding and staining the sky red around it. There seem to be similarly red embers and ash in place of stars, speeding across the sky on a wind Link can’t feel, reminding him of the malice swirling around Hyrule castle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s filled with a sense of dread and fear, not knowing what’s going on, when the moon reaches its peak and suddenly a stabbing pain rips its way into Link’s head. He gasps and clutches the sides of his head. As he does a light, cottony feeling pushes back against the darkness battering his mind, and the voice he now knows to be Zelda’s fills his head. Her voice cuts through the red haze taking over, she calls out his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be on your guard,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She says, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Ganon’s power grows… it rises to its peak under the hour of the blood moon. By its glow, the aimless spirits of the monsters slain in the name of the light return to flesh. Link… please be careful.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As her voice fades so does the red haze and the smothering ash, but the pain in his head lingers, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. Link groans and rubs at his temples, and when he opens his eyes he sees that the moon has returned to normal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slightly dizzy and disoriented, Link stumbles back to where Nyx is lying in the hay and practically collapses, tucking himself into a ball against her tummy and squeezing his eyes shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He falls into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning the whole night through. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I edited the last bit of dialogue between Impa and Link, because like link already knows what the divine beasts are anaht happened to them, Impa and the king both told him already. also, the stable is something I completely made up for plot sorry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The People of Kakariko (are mostly pretty irritating)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link spends the day in Kakariko village. He has mixed reviews.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>no warnings for this chapter! Again, liberties taken with npc interactions but that should be expected by now</p><p>ALSO WE"RE OFF HIATUS NOW BOYSSSSSSSSSSS EEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY still no consistent update schedule tho sorry lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Link wakes up he’s sprawled in the hay, bits of it stuck in his hair and clothes, and Nyx is drinking from the water trough. Nearby are the sounds of children shrieking with laughter, and the sun is bright on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link makes a tired noise as he sits up, rubbing at his face and brushing away bits of hay clinging to him. His hair is a tangled mess, his clothes are rumpled, and he feels like garbage. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What time is it…?</span>
  </em>
  <span> As he drags himself fully to the land of wakefulness, Link reviews his plans for the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His ultimate goal: reaching Hateno village before nightfall. But before he can accomplish that, Link will need supplies, namely food, and some kind of water provision-- and a comb. Link winces as he pulls his hair out of its tie, feeling and hearing the dry strands tear and pull on his scalp. But in order to get those, he will need more rupees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link pulls himself to his feet and straightens his clothes to the best of his abilities, and absently thinks he could use a change of clothes, too, but it’s low on his priority list.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(A bath is slightly higher on his priority list.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he emerges from the stable as presentable as he can make himself, the first thing he notices is that he is not the only traveller stopped in the village. He sees, with a wry twist of his mouth, that although there are more outsiders walking about, he is the only one followed by covetous eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe someone around here will have some odd jobs he can do for some rupees. Link sets off into the village at a leisurely pace, looking for people who seem like they might need some help, greeting nearly everyone he passes by in doing so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More than once someone calls him over, but it’s always because they'd like a closer look at the slate, or just because they’d like to shake the hero’s hand-- there is no doubt that as long as Link is in Kakariko village, he will never be anything other than ‘The Hero’ to anyone here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It grates on his mood, a little. He understands that in a small, sheltered village like this gossip must spread quickly, but surely the sheikah people have better things to occupy their time with than fawning over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>sullen </span>
  </em>
  <span>by the time he reaches the pumpkin patch. It’s already past noon-- he’d slept in far later than he intended to-- and he hasn’t made any progress, and no one has really been of that much help. There is a man working in the patch, tending to the pumpkins, his back to Link. Link leans against the fence and props his hand in his chin, quite possibly actually pouting as he ignores the group of young women nearby trilling at him like courting birds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment of this, the pumpkin farmer notices his presence behind him, and peers over his shoulder at the young man loitering by his patch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link and the man hold eye contact for a second, before the man suddenly leaps up and points a dramatic finger at Link. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Halt, Yiga spy!” He shouts. Link startles, jerking upright from the fence. He’s reaching for the slate to prove to seemingly the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> person in the whole village who doesn’t know who he is that he isn’t-- whatever it was he just called him, when the man’s accusatory expression gives way to one of laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” the man waves him off, “you just looked so serious there I couldn’t help but tease you. I know you’re not really a Yiga spy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link’s confused frown doesn’t fade, and the man keeps talking, figuring correctly that his confusion is due to the gap in his knowledge. “The yiga are a group that were once Sheikah, but turned traitors over a hundred years ago to instead pledge their loyalty to Ganon and his evil plot.” The man’s expression turns serious once more. “They’re bandits and thieves and assassins, and they fight dirty. They’ve been more active now that the towers have risen, so a traveller like you should be wary.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns and bends down by the pumpkins once more, and Link’s frown deepens in thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yiga</span>
  </em>
  <span>… the notion is familiar, but when he wracks his brain all he has to show for it is a flash of black and red in his mind’s eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is much of the world Link still has yet to relearn, but knowing what he does, he can not fathom anyone ever pledging allegiance to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calamity Ganon</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Link is pulled from his thoughts when the man speaks again. He looks up to see that he has one of his pumpkins in his arms, and is offering it to Link. “As an apology for my little joke.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link accepts the pumpkin gratefully, immediately storing it in the slate. The man watches with curious interest, eyeing the crusted blood spots on his ripped clothes with a raised fluffy white eyebrow. “My name is Olkin, by the way,” he says. “Do you… want to do some laundry before you leave again, Hero?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Link’s blank stare, Olkin continues, “It’s just that you look-- and smell-- like you’ve been sleeping in a barn.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Face flushing suddenly, Link looks down at himself and subconsciously touches his hair. He hadn’t realized other people would find it so obvious. A change of clothes and a bath are now both higher on his priority list. “Uh-- yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olkin laughs. “One of the guards, Dorian, you can probably use his laundry basin if you ask nicely. The man’s got two small kids, so he always has soap on hand.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He ducks his head in a hurried bow to Olkin and scurries down the hill to find Dorian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard in question grants his request happily as soon as he asks. It probably has something to do with the hero worship that permeates this whole town-- Link doesn’t think that if he were some random stranger people would be giving him directions to their houses so he can do his laundry there for free. Link finds the house fairly easily-- it’s actually across from the pumpkin patch, nestled at the bottom of one of the steep cliffs surrounding the village. Around the back is, indeed, a washbasin, already filled with water, and soap. He quickly starts stripping off his clothes, glad that the basin is secreted away from public eye, and puts on his first pair of pants that he’s barely worn so he can wash his underwear too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(He also splashes some of the soapy water on himself, letting it drain off his skin into the grass, making sure to wash his feet and his armpits and behind his ears. He washes his hair, too, and brushes it out with his fingers as best he can.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s as he’s wringing the soapy water out from his hair, his clothes, now only somewhat stained, laid out on a log to dry, that he hears the muffled giggles behind him. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees a small white bun poking out from behind a tree. He turns back, and the giggles start up again. This time he swings his head around quickly, and catches sight of the pint-sized watcher just as she ducks back behind the tree, giggling all the while. Slowly, Link stands up, his bare feet barely making any noises in the grass as he creeps forward to the other side of the tree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boo!” Link jumps around the tree, fingers spread like claws, and the kid jumps, shrieking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aahh! You found me!” The kid dissolves into peals of laughter. “Lets play that again!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link blinks, hands on his knees. “Uh, what are we playing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kid plants her hands on her hips. “Hide and seek, obviously!” She announces. “Come on, let’s play!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks back over at his laundry, then glances around at the village beyond them, acutely aware of the gawkers. “I can’t go play right now, my clothes aren’t dry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” The kid pouts. Without another word she turns on her heel and stomps up into the house, and Link isn’t sure what to make of that. No what? He hopes he didn’t upset the poor thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then less than a few minutes later she comes back with a bundle of cream fabric in her tiny arms. “Here!” She thrusts it at him. “You can wear this! It’s my daddy’s but he won’t mind!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He unfolds it, revealing it to be the outermost layer of traditional sheikah robes with wide sleeves and an open front, to be belted closed. He pulls it on. It’s way too big on him, the wide sleeves covering the palms of his hands, and the bottom falling around his mid-thighs, but the silky fabric is puffy and warm, by far the most luxurious garment he’s worn yet. Feeling sufficiently clothed, now, he smiles down at the kid. “What’s your name, kid?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Cottla!” The kid chirps. “I’m five!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Cottla,” Link says, “I’m Link. I’m a hundred and twenty.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cottla squints at him. “You don’t look a hundred and twenty,” she says unbelievingly. “Lady Impa is even older than that and you’re not wrinkly like her at all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lady Impa probably didn’t get as much beauty sleep as me,” Link laughs at his little inside joke with himself. Cottla clearly still doesn’t believe him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, mister,” she says, “Can we play hide and seek now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Link smiles. “How do you play?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cottla looks at him like he’s suddenly grown a second head. “It’s… hide and seek… you don’t know how to play hide and seek?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link coughs awkwardly. Is that supposed to be common knowledge? “Uh… no?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Cotta pats his arm. “It’s okay, I can teach you. I can teach you all sorts of games!” She throws her arms out wide to symbolize just how many games she might teach him. And really Link doesn’t have much time to waste but… how could he say no? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he says, and Cottla jumps up and down in excitement, clapping her hands together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yay!” She cheers. “Let’s play tag!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we were playing hide and seek?” Link asks, pulling the robe tighter around himself, confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to play tag now! Come on, you have to catch me!” Then she takes off running, giggling, and Link jogs after her at a slightly subdued pace, aware of his longer legs and, likely, superior athlesticism than the five year old has. He chases her up the hill and off the path, until they reach a patch of tall grass and he sprints the last few feet to tap her on the shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I caught you!” He exaggerates panting for breath as if she’d really given him a hard chase. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When you catch me you have to say tag! That’s why it’s called tag!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, tag,” Link says, and Cottla cheers again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yay!!!” She turns to the tall grass they’re standing in. “Okay, now let’s play cricket race!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you play that?” Link says as she bends down in the grass and starts feeling around with her little hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoever catches the most crickets first wins!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, that sounds easy enough. Link crouches too, looking around the ground for the crickets he can hear hidden in the grass. This place is just teeming with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Cottla pipes up, “Okay! How many did you get? I have four!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link turns and shows her his entire handfuls of crickets, and Cottla’s eyes widen. “Whaa! You have so many! So cool, you’re really good at catching bugs mister Link!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link smiles. “What are we going to play next?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cottla seems to think hard about it, scrunching her face up adorably as she tosses her crickets back into the grass. Link puts his in the slate. “Let’s make a magic potion!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A magic potion?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Cottla grins. “There’s a magic place in the forest where everything is magic and we can make a potion! Let’s go, it’s just past the shrine!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leads him away from the grass and past an orange glowing shrine, up the path and farther into the sparse forest. At the end of the path where Cottla is taking him he sees a shallow pond in a clearing, beams of sunlight reflecting off the water. Everywhere grows wildflowers, white and blue bell-shaped blooms underfoot. Floating leisurely about are tons of small, round, brightly glowing fairies, landing gently on the flowers before lifting up into the air again. In the center of the pond is what looks like a massive closed flower bud, unbloomed, with thick protective spikes like rose thorns. It seems to sway gently, almost pulsing, alive. At the base is a large mound of huge glowing mushrooms, forming almost a ramp-like shape. Link slows down as they get closer to it, looking around, his mouth slightly parted in awe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A giant lady lives in there!” Cottla says. Ah, the imagination of a child. It knows no bounds. “Let’s make a potion now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link starts picking flowers, walking through the shallow water, letting it run over his bare feet as he collects them. Cottla is much more concerned with mud, and sticks, and leaves, and rocks, and worms, that he sees her sticking into her pockets with her muddy little hands. He finds some wild carrots growing at the base of a tree and is quick to store those, knowing just how valuable every bit of food he finds is. Right now he rinses one off in the water and munches on it as he collects more of what actually seem to be valuable materials. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At one point he hears Cottla giggling again, and looks over to see a fairy has landed on her head. Link smiles softly as she crosses her eyes trying to look up at it. She reaches up, presumably to try and pet it, and it floats lazily away out of her reach. To his surprise, it comes towards him, and he silently holds out his hand. It lands on his finger, so light it barely feels like anything at all, its wings fluttering slowly open and closed. Cottla creeps over, gazing wonderstruck at it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few moments rest, the fairy flies away again, and Link and Cottla watch it join the rest of the fairies in the air. “Wow…” Cottla breathes. Her child’s innocence and enthusiasm is refreshing to Link, different from the adults of Kakariko village who see the slate, his destiny, before they see him. Cottla only seems to see him as her playmate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link turns again as she continues to watch the fairies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the base of another tree, he sees some other flowers, different from the ones that grow all around them, small in numbers but inarguably far more beautiful. With petals like lilies, so white they seem to glow, Link feels drawn towards them by something inexplicable. He reaches forward, but just as his fingers brush the soft petals, Cottla speaks from beside him, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My daddy says we’re not allowed to pick those,” she says. “They're eh--endagered.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link withdraws his hand, still feeling that strange pull in his chest towards the flowers. He needs them, he thinks, though he doesn’t know what for-- they’re important.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think we have enough ingredience for the potion now,” Cottla says. They go off to the side in the clearing, and Cottla dumps her collection of rocks and leaves and mud and sticks and the occasional worm in the grass, and starts stirring it with a stick. Link sprinkles in some of his flower petals. “We need more water.” At Cottla’s instruction, Link cups his hands and splashes some water from the pond onto the mud pile-- sorry, magic potion. It gets gradually soupier and Cottla continues to stir it, until eventually, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s ready!” Link has no idea what constitutes it as ready, but Cottla is the expert here, so he’ll take her word for it. “Here, taste it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She holds out the mud-covered stick, shoving the end in his face and nearly taking his eye out. “Go on, try it! I want to see if it gives you magic powers!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some reason, a wave of nostalgia hits him, and before he realizes he’s done it he takes the stick, his chest feeling oddly tight. He really doesn’t want to, but… gingerly, he sticks his tongue out, just barely tasting it, and tries not to let his face scrunch up in disgust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well!?” Cottla looks on eagerly. “Did it work? Do you have magic powers??” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Link makes a show of pondering it. Discreetly, he reaches towards the slate on his hip, blindly opening the inventory. “Oh, what’s this?” He reaches forward, palm empty, behind Cottla’s small pointed ear, then twists his hand, pulling it back to reveal a boko fang pinched between his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa!” Cottla gasps, taking the tooth from him with both hands when he offers it. “You really are magic!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link smiles as the child fawns over her new treasure, a different kind of inexplicable nostalgia seizing his lungs. He doesn’t remember where he learned how to do that trick, but it came naturally as if he’s done it a million times. And maybe he has. Cottla’s smiling face nudges at something buried deep where his memory is supposed to be, a phantom of a recollection, and Link tries to grasp that ghost before it’s gone, but the memory slips away before he can actually remember it, leaving that same empty fog in its wake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, I’ll trade!” Cottla pulls from her pocket a huge chunk of rock salt and plunks it in his hand. “Crunchy crunchables!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him suddenly wants to cry, a loss he doesn’t recognize as his own writhing within him, and he’s relieved when Cottla looks up at the sky, distracted. “I’m getting hungry,” she says, “I’m going to go have lunch. Bye mister Link, it was fun playing with you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you too,” he waves, throat closing in on itself, and she runs off, monster tooth clutched in her fist. Link falls back on his ass and scrubs roughly at his cheeks even though no tears have fallen. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link wanders back down into the village, slate full of materials to sell and supplies of his own, carrots and different kinds of mushrooms and more herbs and a couple of radishes he found after Cottla left. He retrieves his now dried clothes, a little stiff from lying flat in the sun but blessedly clean, and Link sighs happily as he pulls them on, and then the warm sheikah robe on overtop his torn shirt. He goes down to the general store.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His jaw drops at the sight of the fire arrows they have on display, eyes fixated on them as he goes up to the counter to sell his stuff. By the time he’s done handing all the materials over, he has a whole whopping 140 rupees in total. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks between his wallet and the fire arrows, a slight pout to his lips as he eyes the price tag. They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>expensive… the shopkeeper notices his strife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, since you’re the hero and all… just this once, I’ll give you a discount on those. Half off.” She says, leaning forward on her elbows on the counter. Link looks up at her, eyes practically sparkling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He buys a bundle of five fire arrows, a bundle of ten regular arrows, a handmade comb, a bar of soap wrapped in waxy paper, and an empty waterskin. It all punts him back down to only 25 rupees, but that’s still better than what he had before, which was practically nothing. He hopes he doesn’t have to rely on charity for his whole quest, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come back anytime and show me your </span>
  <em>
    <span>archery skills</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” The shopkeeper purrs at him as he leaves, and Link waves awkwardly as he goes. He goes across the road to the grocer and buys a slab of butter, which puts him down even more to only 13 rupees. Oops lol. But it’s worth it for delicious butter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s dinnertime. He wanders around the village until he finds a cooking pot, currently occupied by another small child. She leans over the pot that seems to be filled with some kind of soup, a ladle in her hand and a frown on her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kid, do you need help?” Link says, and the kid looks up at him. She looks a lot like Cottla, but a couple years older. This is probably Dorian’s other kid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to make dinner for my sister, creamy veggie soup, it’s nourishing and fortifying! Or so they say, anyhow it must be true. But…” The girl flops down onto a stool, looking sullen. “I just realized I don’t have any carrots! That’s one of the most important ingredients… and now the soup is going to be bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link sits down on the stool next to her, looking down into the pot. There’s some other veggies floating around in the bubbling cream broth, he spots potatoes, celery… “I have carrots you can use, if you want.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?!” The girl grins at him, any traces of oncoming tears immediately banished from her eyes. “Thank you! So much!! I just need one and I can get cooking!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Link gets some carrots from the slate. “For the amount of soup you’re making, better to use two. Here,” He hands her the carrots. “Do you know how to chop them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can do it!” The girl says defensively, grabs the carrots and plunks them down on the cutting board next to her. Link watches closely as she slowly and carefully chops the carrots, around five minutes per carrot, and then pushes them into the soup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link also takes out some herbs and shows her how to crush them between her fingertips and sprinkle them into the soup for more flavour. He sits quietly as the kid stirs the soup and it starts to smell more and more delicious every minute. He learns her name is Koko, and she wants to learn how to be a really good cook like their mom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while, when the sky is starting to turn orange, Dorian and Cottla come over and all four of them have a bowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yummy,” Cottla says around a mouthful, soup dribbling down her chin. Koko beams, proud of her achievement, and Dorian leans over to wipe his daughter’s face with a handkerchief. Link nods in agreement. The soup is pretty good, especially for a nine year old’s mostly-solo project, rich and creamy, the veggies not undercooked in the thick broth. Though the herbs he contributed definitely do enhance the flavour of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking of how he needs to leave fairly soon if he wants to make it to Hateno on time, he quickly finishes his bowl and sets it aside as he stands. “Thank you for the meal,” he bows respectfully to Koko and her family. Dorian nods at him, and Link remembers, “Oh!” He starts to pull off his borrowed robe to give it back to Dorian, but the guard stops him with a gesture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can keep it, kid,” the man says. “I think you’ll be needing it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link smiles gratefully and settles the robe back on his shoulders, rolling the sleeves back up. Just as he’s about to turn to leave, Cottla jumps up and wraps her arms around his legs in a hug. “Bye mister Link! Come back and play with me again sometime, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Link pats her head and she lets him go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes sure to fill up his waterskin before he redresses Nyx in her saddle and leads her out of the stable. The villagepeople all wave and say goodbye to him as he goes, and even though he wishes they wouldn’t pay him so much attention, a little internally at odds with his near-celebrity status here, he’s still courteous enough to wave back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he’s past the village gate he nudges Nyx into a trot, waves to Hestu as he passes, and sets off down the road, the setting sun creeping towards the horizon as he picks up speed. Eventually the soft flute music one can hear in every part of Kakariko fades as more distance is put between him and the haven, and he’s accompanied only by the sounds of the crickets in the grass, frogs in the river, and birds in the trees, wind rustling the leaves and the grass.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>UwU...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. if women are oppressed then why Symin?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Little does he know, Link has come home.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think it should go without saying that Link is going to be put in a lot of stressful situations in this fic. slight warning for brief, vague panic-- we all know what's on the road to Hateno. Also, anyone who spots the subtle foreshadowing gets a prize.</p><p>Once again HUGE thanks to my little sibling for helping with this fic! It would not be what it is without you kiddo love you &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He crosses Kakariko bridge and turns where the sign tells him to, taking the path leading away from the stable. Nyx seems to know to automatically follow the road, and that gives Link the opportunity to look around as he travels. He sees another tower in the distance, as the terrain becomes more fields on one side, the wide river stretching along his other side. They advance into a gallop, with the open empty road ahead of them, clear of distractions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clear of distractions… that’s wishful thinking. As they pass a tree, he hears a wet </span>
  <em>
    <span>schlap</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Instinctively he pulls on Nyx’s reins to stop and look behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two round, gelatinous blue orbs tumble down from the tree. One jiggles to a stop closer to the road, but one bounces and rolls down the grassy slope until it teeters off the edge into the river. Link watches the strange… things… with a dropped jaw, baffled at their mere existence. The one that’s still there has two spots that look like two round eyes perched on it’s wobbly top, that stay in place even as it rolls slowly towards him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link dismounts, walking over to it, curious. It has a few leaves stuck in its membrane, and Link watches the foliage dissolve in the creature’s body. He makes a small ‘huh’ noise as it gets closer. Then all of a sudden it surges forward with a totally random burst of energy, bumping into his leg and starting to try to absorb his boot into it’s jiggly mass, and Link jumps with a yelp. He shakes his leg, trying to get it off, but it's stuck on, and the suction feeling is </span>
  <em>
    <span>too weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hyah!!” He swings his leg around in a powerful kick, sending the sentient (?) blob flying into the tree. It hits the trunk and bursts apart with another wet splat, leaving lumps of jelly-like substance behind in the grass. Cautiously, Link goes over and pokes at it, but it just wobbles. It’s… kind of funny. Link chuckles, poking it again, harder. It wobbles again, harder. Quickly, wanting not to waste any more time, he scoops it up and deposits the clump in the slate to play with more later, and goes over to where Nyx is waiting on the road. He sets off again, the setting sun behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some time later, they go around a bend, and clouds start to cover the sky. He looks up at them, hoping it doesn’t rain before he reaches the village. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shadow appears in the corner of is eye, and Link looks back down only to be arrested by the sight of two guardian shells fallen on a large mound of earth, their legs sprawled, claws sunken into the dirt and suddenly Link imagines how it would feel to be pinned under one of these claws, having the life slowly crushed out of him, rammed into the dirt, bones breaking-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nyx must have felt his grip on the reins tightening as fear grips him, because she slows, and Link’s eyes stay glued to the dead machines, heart beating a crater in his ribs as they pass them. Then Link forces himself to face forward again, keeping his gaze set ahead-- only to be met with the sight of the rest of the field. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s… a graveyard of guardians. Hundreds of darkened, lifeless mechanical shells, rusted and moss covered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>litter</span>
  </em>
  <span> the ground. Ruins and fallen trees among them, upturned earth like this battlefield settled days ago and not a century, guardians block even the road and Nyx maneuvers herself around them. Link shudders as they pass far too close to one for even a joke of comfort. The sheer number of them, this place, sends a sudden searing pain racing through his chest. Link gasps wetly and clutches his chest, fingers digging painfully into his sternum but he needs that. His lungs heave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fort Hateno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stone stronghold stretching between the two cliffs looms before him, as Nyx continues forward at a trot now. Link isn’t even guiding her anymore, all but only holding on. It’s as if she knows he needs to get the fuck away from here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pass under the open gate and step into the shadow cast by the fort. The gate is propped wide open and so any sense of shelter or shielding from the fort is mostly an illusion, but on the other side of the mighty stone wall Link does suddenly feel much safer. The tension in his back and shoulders untightens just a little bit, and his heaving lungs start to calibrate again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A movement in the corner of his eye and he jumps, jerking accidentally on Nyx’s reins and she stops on the road. There’s a person standing near a campfire just off the road, and the man waves at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, traveller,” the guy says, taking a couple of steps towards him. “You came to see Fort Hateno?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link just looks at him, his eyes wide like saucers-- he must look like he’s seen ghosts, but the man doesn’t comment on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, pretty majestic wall, isn’t it?” The guy looks up at the half-wrecked fort. “Lotta history in this place, you know? You know about the battle that happened here 100 years ago?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- Link thinks as he shakes his head-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. I don’t, but I think my body does</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, me neither!” The guy laughs. “Hah, it’s pretty much impossible to know the true story these days. As far as I know, no one from back then is still alive, and they told crazy stories to their kids and then their kids told even crazier stories to us. But one thing we do know for sure, there was this hero, right? One of the champions. And he gave his life here fighting these guardians. Some say he didn’t really die, though, he just got put in a deep sleep. Some say it was the princess that saved the day, people would talk about her harnessing ‘the sun itself’-- some people say it was the golden triumph forks, whatever that is-- and smited all the guardians on the field. Some say it was the goddess Hylia herself that saved everyone, but I don’t believe that. What do you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link just shrugs, still feeling like his jaw has been wired shut. The guy huffs another laugh. “Hah, me too, buddy. Guess we’ll never know for sure-- but hey, we can’t waste time stressing about unknowns, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t waste time stressing about unknowns’... </span>
  </em>
  <span>Link nods slowly. He glances back over his shoulder at the sea of fallen guardians behind them. He takes a deep breath and turns his head back to face the road before him. “Yeah,” he whispers, “You’re right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nudges Nyx’s sides with his heels until they’re galloping along the road through the trees. It’s darker here under the forest’s cover, the low sun not reaching here. The trees thin out once they pass a towering rock formation above the river, and then the beaten dirt road stretches upwards above the river, and the tower he saw earlier comes back into view, glowing bright orange against the dark night sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of bokoblins jump out from behind a tree next to the road and try to chase him, but Nyx outpaces them easily and they get left behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road pinches in between two short rockfaces into a miniature ravine, coming out to the sight of more ruins and some red moblins among them. He passes under the tower up on the hill next to him. He follows the sign at the fork in the road indicating the way to Hateno village, and speeds past more monsters. He leaves the tower behind, remembering last time he tried to travel late at night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road starts to break up into patches of cobbled path as the hill gets steeper. Link goes around a bend and there before him is the entrance to Hateno village. The gate is made of stone and clay, with a sign hanging from it with the village’s name. Two lanterns on either side of the road beckon weary travelers forth from the night. Beyond that, he sees the tops of chimneys and houses poking out from over the hill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a man armed with a farmer’s pitchfork standing in the middle of the road beneath the gate, feet spread in a fighting-ready stance, eyeing Link suspiciously as he draws nearer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who-- who are you?!” The farmer barks once Link stops right in front of him. “I demand answers! If you’re up this late, you’re probably up to no good!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m a traveler,” Link simply says. The farmer-guard grunts, lowering his pitchfork and standing it on the ground, leaning on it a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well… you don’t look like a monster,” He says. “And I don’t think a bokoblin could make such a convincing disguise. Sorry for getting all worked up. You’re free to go. We’re just a waypoint on your winding road, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link slows Nyx to a walk as he enters Hateno village. He passes gardens of flowers and produce, and old-looking buildings made of pale clay sprawling over the hills, shops and homes and windmills. It’s a beautiful town. Small patches of wildflowers grow in the grass around the main road, and lilly pads in bloom dot the pond he passes. Apple trees shade the path, offering ripe red fruit. Link leans up to pluck one from the branches as he passes under it, bringing the apple to his lips and taking a bite. It’s crisp and juicy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever had an apple this good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the village of Hateno being much more open and sprawling than Kakariko, there’s a warm sense of safety to this place that the sheikah village didn’t have, despite this place lacking the insulating cliffs. Already he knows he likes it, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s nighttime proper, now, though, so most people are inside their homes, candles lit in the windows, but he does pass by someone still sitting in the communal kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Link says softly as he brings Nyx closer. The person looks up. “Could you point me towards the ancient tech lab?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The person gestures up the hill. “Just keep taking this road, then turn right and keep going. Then a left-- there are signs.” They explain, “Usually you could follow the blue lanterns up the hill, but we had heavy rain recently and they haven’t been relit. It’s right at the top of the hill though, on the edge of town.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles graciously at them to convey thanks, and they nod to him as he carries on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He crosses a bridge and passes under another gate. Large, ornate, unlit stone lanterns line the path just like the villager said as he continues up as instructed, until there are no more houses or farms this way and the road turns winding until he reaches the top of the hill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lab was obviously once just a regular home, with a large silo-like tower attached to the side, that has long since had wooden sheikah architecture added on. There’s a mismatched front with a frog statue like the ones he saw in Kakariko above the door-- except this one is wearing round red glasses-- scaffolding and a rickety wooden staircase wind up the tower. On the roof of the lab is a massive ancient sheikah telescope pointed vaguely out at the rest of Hyrule, and in front of the lab is a strangely bulbous unlit furnace. Link can feel the eccentric energy radiating off from it, and he leaves Nyx under the tree to approach the front door slowly with somewhat cautious steps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he walks closer, his feet tap over a circle of sheikah stone inlaid in the ground, unlit. He raises a hand to knock on the door, even as he wonders if he should wait until morning to come calling-- Purah is probably asleep. He falters, thinks twice about it, and turns to walk away. It would be rude. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, no, fuck it. Link spins and throws the doors open, he’s here and they can deal with it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors bang hard against the wall, and inside a man sitting in the center of the lab jumps out of his seat and shrieks, his sandwich flying from his hand onto the floor. His sudden movement bumps the table and it wobbles, the mug that had been sitting there toppling over onto the floor and breaking, spilling the milk tea everywhere and staining the papers already scattered all over the place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hand clutching his banged knee and the other grabbing a book from the copious piles of them and brandishes it above his head like a weapon. “D-don’t come any closer!” He yelps, “I-I’m warning you!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks around the lab, taking in the incredible mess and clutter. “Are you Purah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sheikah scientist yelps again and throws the book at him upon hearing the name. It lands on the floor nearly a whole meter from his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’ll kill you, you know!” The scientist warns him. “The last bandits that came in here--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, I’m not a bandit,” Link interrupts him, turning his hands palms-out. “I’m Link--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Link?” The scientist blinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A crashing noise sounds from upstairs, like the sound of a desk and everything that could be on it falling to the floor. “</span>
  <b>
    <em>LINK</em>
  </b>
  <span>!?” A… young child? Bellows, and he looks off to the side just in time to see a short whirlwind of cream fabric and white hair come barrelling down the stairs. And. Keeps coming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wh--</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Link tries to dodge the cannonball but a tiny fist collides with his stomach and he doubles over, wheezing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re late!” The girl shouts at him, and Link coughs as his insides unsquish. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Miss Purah!” The fully grown scientist yelps, and Link blinks around the tears of pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Purah?” He croaks and stands up a little straighter. “Impa... told me to find you...” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah is… a small child? The kid in question, Purah, glares up at him. Her hair sitting on top of her head is almost as big as her, and her round red glasses match the ones crookedly perched on the frog statue outside. She tilts her head at him, a pensive look on her face, that seems out of place on a child. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I did sleep for a hundred years,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Link rationalizes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Guess it’s not that outlandish for a kid to be a brilliant scientist</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t recognize me at all, do you?” Purah says slowly. Link shakes his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we know each other?” He asks, and she seems to pause before squinting up at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>speak…” she mutters, and steps up to him, reaching up to tap his forehead with a pencil. “Do you remember any of your dreams from your hundred year </span>
  <em>
    <span>nap</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” She asks, pulling out a notebook. “Do you remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” Link pauses. “No, I don’t remember. Not a thing.” He says frankly, then adds, “No dreams, either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” She purses her lips and mutters under her breath as she writes in the journal, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>after 100 years in the slumber of restoration, subject… has lost… all… memories</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Voice… surprisingly… fruity</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Noted!” She claps it shut and grins triumphantly. “Just as I hypothesized!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was that last bit</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Link thinks to himself, confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah notices his puzzled expression, and puts her hands on her hips with a sheepish smile that seems fake. “Oops, s</span>
  <em>
    <span>o</span>
  </em>
  <span>rry, I have a bad habit of taking notes rather abruptly, I guess I’m just quirky like that.” She smirks. It’s weird, seeing a little kid smirk. Link frowns. Is this kid really a kid? “Soooo, do you have any questions for me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link tilts his head. “Yeah,” he says, “Why are you a small child?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah gasps at him, her eyes widening. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Then she taps her chin, looking up in thought. The other scientist looks very, very tired. “Actually, is it rude if it’s true? Anyhow,” she shrugs. “I only look like a kid because of an experiment gone wrong-- don’t ask the details, we’ll be here all night. Really, I’m a hundred and twenty-two… anyways, back to the matter at hand! Here you are, after one hundred years! To visit lil’ ol’ me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leans in conspiratorially. “But my dear little sister didn’t send you here just to say hi, didn’t she? No, I’ll bet you there’s something wrong with the slate.” She points to the sheikah slate on his hip. “Come on, let me see it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link unclips it from his belt and hands it over when she reaches out a demanding grabby hand, and she takes it and swipes through it with practised ease, humming and hawing. “Yes… looks like some of the basic functions have gone offline. Yep, I can fix this no problem--” she looks up at him with a devious glint in her eye. “But I need you to run an errand for me, first.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link slumps, and Purah laughs. “Aw, don’t make that face! You didn’t think I would fix the slate for </span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had hoped maybe you would…” Link sighs. Purah scoffs. “Can it at least wait until morning?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah seems to consider him for a long moment, then sighs and nods. “Yeah, sure.” She says. “Symin will show you to a bed.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thank you,” Link breathes, and Purah waves him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, better not get sappy on me-- we didn’t get along a hundred years ago and I didn’t plan on changing that now. Just go sleep, you look </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She turns and jots down in her notebook, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sleep of restoration… does little favours… in the… looks department…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link gives a light laugh at that, all air but a laugh nonetheless, and when she hears it Purah twists her head around to look at him in genuine surprise. But he doesn’t get time to ask what that’s about, because then he’s following Symin up the stairs and towards a bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can sleep here,” the scientist says, and Link immediately puts down his things and drops down onto the bed. Symin leaves, and Link lays his head down on the pillow, falling asleep almost immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s shaken awake the next morning with sunlight streaming in the window and a hand on his shoulder, and immediately on instinct Link leaps up, his sword already halfway out of its sheath before he realizes it’s just Symin the sheikah scientist, springing back, startled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Link says, putting his sword back, a little embarrassed. “So-- sorry,” He stops and clears his throat uncomfortably when he hears the low pitch of his own voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Symin chuckles. “Miss Purah is still asleep, but I can show you what we’ll need you to do so we can fix the slate, if you want.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Link says around a yawn, slipping his shoes back on and reattaching his pouches. Symin brings him downstairs and outside, showing him the weird, bulbous thing right by the door to the lab. It kind of looks like an octorok head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is one of our ancient furnaces,” Symin says, gesturing to it. “It powers the guidance stone in the lab-- as you can see it’s unlit. It rained really heavily a few days ago and put out the blue flame, and we haven’t gotten down to the other furnace to try and relight it yet.” He points down towards Hateno village. “The other, bigger one is way down the hill, under the sheep farm. We’ll need you to go down and collect some blue flame to relight the furnace.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods. Symin hands him a torch. “You can’t miss it,” he says, and Link takes it and sets off down the hill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds the other furnace after a bit of a hike, led by the trail of old-looking, unlit lanterns, past a few farms with people tending the fields. It’s practically wrapped in stone, but it’s hard to tell if the stone was put there or if it’s been dug out. This one definitely is bigger, and even more oddly shaped than the one by the lab. This one is lit up and glowing blue, like he assumes the other one is also supposed to be. He sticks the end of the torch in the blue flame until it catches, and he turns and goes back up the hill, lighting the lanterns on his way up. Along the way, a woman thanks him for lighting the lanterns, and he nods at her before continuing on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets back up to the lab and lights the furnace, and as soon as he does it makes a noise and starts glowing, along with the circle of sheikah stone in front of the door. He puts the torch out and goes inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah is up and about when he opens the door, the sheikah slate in her hands. She looks up as he walks in. “Linky,” she says, and Link thinks the nickname is not supposed to be affectionate. “Thanks </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much! Look, the guidance stone is already coming back online.” She gestures to the long, narrow stone pointing down from the ceiling that looks just like the ones at the top of the sheikah towers. “Yep, nothing mysterious about it, this is pure science!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link would beg to differ. But okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah hops off her stool and goes up to the stone and its pedestal, patting it affectionately.  “Well then, let’s go ahead and restore those runes for you!” She reaches up and puts the slate in it’s slot and turns to him as the stone starts to glow brighter. “Give me a nice SNAP! Go on, no time to be shy about it!” She snaps her fingers at him, and he just blinks in confusion. Purah sniffs, unimpressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, whatever.” She turns back to the guidance stone, and they watch as it loads the information down into the slate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Runes restored</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Repair complete</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link takes the slate back when it’s ejected and examines it. There’s a functional pictograph feature now, and some pictos already saved to the album. “Well? Did it work? Lemme see!” Purah bats her hand in the air, and Link turns the slate to show her. She adjusts her glasses and squints. “Yep, all there-- that we know, at least. Okay, let’s test it-- take a picto of us!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Link clumsily adjusts the slate and leans down to get them both in the frame, and quickly pushes the shutter button, taking the picto with a sharp clicking noise from the slate. Purah grabs it and looks at the picto. It’s blurry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess you became a knight for a reason,” She sighs, and looks through the album. “Ah, hold on, there are some old landscape pictos here. Princess Zelda made use of the pictograph feature often, this must be her work. Not bad, actually. Oh, yeah--” Purah looks up. “Since you were her appointed knight, you were probably there when these photos were taken. Maybe these could help jog your memory… try asking Impa about it, she knew the princess better than I did.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods, and takes the slate back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you have any more questions, just come back and ask me, or Robbie at the tech lab in Akkala if you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>desperate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods again. “Is there, uh, is there anything else?” He asks, and Purah scoffs, shaking her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dunno if I’m gonna get used to that,” she mutters, then says, “Actually, yeah. If you see y--” she cuts herself off and pauses, looking at him pensively. Then she turns away and waves her hand dismissively. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Now get out of here, you nuisance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link places the slate at its place on his hip and nods to her, deciding not to let his thoughts linger on what Purah decided not to tell him-- can’t waste time stressing about unknowns. He waves goodbye to her and Symin both, then turns and leaves.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>straying further and further from canon npc dialogue..... how long until i just start making shit up <br/>Also I love love love Purah so much can you tell lmfao can't wait to write about her in my age of calamity rewrite</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. you can't spell 'Hateno village' without 'communist utopia'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link starts to catch up with his past-- but it still outpaces him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wheeeeeee i love hateno village we have added some more things to it for flavour, like a blacksmith and also Rice Guys its a fun time its fun i swear aaahhh </p><p>also theres a bit with deer hunting and we are not going with the 'animals magically poof into ready-to-eat meat' thing so if you are uncomfortable with that feel free to scroll past it it is not long and not explicit </p><p>enjoy uwu</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Unlike when he first arrived, when Link guides Nyx by the reins back down the hill into the village, it is bursting with life. None of the silent peace from last night, now it is bright and vibrant and loud with the people going about their daily lives, and Link finds it just as charming as the moonlit quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leads his horse down the road, passed by on either side by people. Villagers in the middle of chores, carrying baskets of laundry or produce, travellers with their wares strapped to the back of their donkeys, busy. Eventually he stops outside the inn, at the bottom of the steps there is a small stable and a man leaning back against one of the support beams, his arms crossed over his chest as he tracks the people passing by with his eyes. Link approaches with Nyx, and the guy looks up at him with a wary look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You saw me checking everyone out, right?” The guy says, and Link shrugs. “Yeah, I do it every day. Gotta keep the town safe and all that, you know? You look like the travelling type, I’m sure you get it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link shrugs again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Name’s Manny, by the way. You checking in your horse?” He asks him, and Link nods, passing him the reins. He goes to reach for his wallet, but Manny is already bringing Nyx into a stall, telling him over his shoulder, “Real sturdy steed you got, here. You can come pick her up any time you like.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confused but nonetheless pleased, Link lowers his hand and nods in thanks to him. He walks over to the communal kitchen just across the road and sits on one of the many wooden stools. There are already a good few people gathered around the cooking pots, chatting excitedly. Link opens the sheikah slate and reviews his small collection of ingredients, his stomach growling lightly. He could really use some breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he thinks that, cheers start to rise up from the people around him, and he looks up to see three big burly buff people, each carrying a truly massive pot. The cheers continue as the pots are placed on the ground in the communal kitchen, and Link sees that they are filled with rice. “Rice guys! Rice guys! Rice guys!” The people chant as they scoop the rice out into the cooking pots and tall storage pots at the back of the kitchens. It’s three siblings with a clear resemblance between them, two brothers and one sister, all with glorious, shiny hair and winning smiles. People thank them for the rice and tip them green rupees as the Rice Guys flex and pose before breaking out into laughter and making their exit with the now empty pots. Link blinks as the spectacle ends, and people actually start to cook with the rice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First time?” the villager on the stool next to his smiles good naturedly, a young man with brown buzzed hair and freckles. “That’s just the way we do things here in Hateno village. Come on, grab a bowl, the food is for everyone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Link says softly, taking a stone carved bowl from a stack of them on a nearby shelf and some chopsticks from a cup next to it. Soon enough someone gestures for his bowl, and Link holds it out as the seasoned rice is scooped into his bowl along with two fried eggs. He digs in immediately, thoroughly enjoying the delicious, and more importantly, free, food. The guy sitting next to him finishes his meal quickly and stands to leave, turning to Link whose mouth is stuffed full of rice. “Well, those houses ain’t gonna build themselves,” he gives a two-fingered salute and walks away, leaving his seat empty, but it does not stay vacated for long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon an elderly woman arrives at the kitchen and sits gingerly down on the stool, slowed by her old bones. Link smiles at her, and she returns it, pulling at the deep wrinkles in her cheeks, squinting at him a little. “Good morning, young lady,” the old woman says. “Are you a traveller?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link quickly swallows his mouthful, having paused his chewing at being called ‘young lady’-- if that has ever happened before, obviously he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t think it has. And yet, he is entirely unbothered by it, though he’s sure that back in the day, other knights who were more attached to their masculinity would have been upset. “Yes, ma’am,” he says as he wipes his mouth with a napkin, seeing no need to correct her, it’s harmless, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I’ll be,” the old woman pats the short table as someone places a bowl of rice in front of her, “I thought so, I haven’t seen your face before, and I’ve seen many in my years-- though maybe I have, I seem to have misplaced my glasses,” she laughs. “This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>your first visit to our town, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes’m,” As Link nods and the woman keeps talking, he notices people around them start to avoid eye contact. “It’s very beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hateno has grown to be quite a lively place. I suppose that's on account of things being so peaceful in general nowadays.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nowadays?” Link prompts without thinking, and immediately wants to smack himself-- duh, the Calamity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That he was supposed to stop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes…” The old woman does not seem to notice his slip, folding her hands in her lap. “When I was a child, this whole region wasn’t in a state fit to be sown, much less harvested.” Link nods slowly as she looks off into the distance. “Hyrule castle and castle town had been destroyed, all the lovely folks there fell victim to… well, back in the bygone days, we called it the Calamity. Though I think the young’uns these days call it that, too. But words often fall meaningless when we try to describe tragic events of a certain magnitude…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks down at his mostly-empty bowl, his appetite fading. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The destruction began there, in the core of Hyrule, then faster than anyone could run it spread across the whole land. Of course, that all happened long before my time, I was born during the age of burning fields. The first decade of my life was spent in a ring of flames and under a sky of smoke, but once I was old enough to really become aware of it, the flames turned to embers to ash to rich, fertile soil once more, and the crops were budding. We were self-sufficient. I’ve never ventured outside the gates of this very village, you know, but I’ve heard the castle and its city are breeding ground for the forces of the Calamity to this very day. Youngsters like you who like to travel could tell you about that in more detail, but they don’t know as much of the history. Those who are older than I would know more about it… but she’s likely passed by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She finally stops talking for a moment to take a breath and a few bites of her food, sitting serenely on the stool like she’s said nothing of great impact at all. Link halfheartedly stirs his rice with his chopsticks. He notices that around them in the kitchen, a sober silence has fallen. It occurs to him that he is probably the only one alive in all of Hyrule who did not have to live through the effects of the Calamity, he is the only one alive today who did not have to face the consequences of his own failure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shame roils sharp in his gut like the smog serpent that circles Hyrule Castle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize he’s zoned out until the old woman lightly slaps his bicep. “Finish your plate dearie,” she tells him a scolding but good-natured tone. Link does, even though he’s really not hungry anymore. “Now Lassie, I do hope you don’t plan on moving on too quickly? There’s much to see in Hateno, you know, and much more to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My joints have been giving me more and more grief these days,” she sighs. “I can’t be sure I’ll be able to collect my dear cuccoos’ eggs this morning… I’ll have to find someone young and agile who may be able to help me. Unfortunately, most of the young’uns of this town steer clear of my home, I simply don’t understand why they are so afraid of my sweet rooster, he is such a dearheart. Ah, the life of an old woman… your twilight years are always the loneliest, treasure your youth before it slips through your fingers. When you’re an old woman like me, you’ll be glad you took my advice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link sets his empty dish down on his thighs and scratches at the back of his head. “Uh… I could help, if you’d like.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old woman beams a gummy grin at him. “Thank you so much, sweet pea,” she says, “let me just finish my breakfast here, and I’ll show you to the coop.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she finishes eating, Link takes hers and his own bowl over to the washbasin and washes them quickly, then helps the old woman stand from her seat and they walk over to her house, over the bridge further into the village. Attached to the side of the home is a short fence encircling a cuccoo enclosure, where the hens peck leisurely at the ground for bugs-- any trace of grass or other plants have surely been long pecked away. The old woman hands him a wide basket propped against the fence, and points him to the coop in the corner with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just crawl in there and collect the eggs from the nesting boxes. I’ll fix us some tea.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The old woman walks slowly towards the house, pulling herself up the steps to the door, and Link takes the basket and steps over the short fence into the pen. The pecking cuccoos do not react to his presence, and he picks his way over to the coop, squatting down to shuffle into the musty space. It’s dimly lit, but Link can still easily make out the nesting boxes stacked along either side of the coop, and he reaches into them as he shuffles along, piling the brown eggs into the padded basket. Some of the boxes still have hens roosting in them, and when he gently reaches under their feathery bellies to take the egg, it is still warm. As he goes, he hears a low, grating clucking noise that doesn’t seem to come from the few hens he sees, but he can’t place the source of it until he glances into a shadowy-er corner and, by chance, spots a pair of beady eyes glaring out at him. He pauses, and the clucking gets more agitated, a darkened mass starting to shuffle in the corner, puffing its feathers out. Then all of a sudden it lets out a screeching squawk, the rooster bursting from the corner in a flurry of feathers and beak and claws and flying at Link viciously. Link yelps and falls back, dropping the basket and scrambling back away from the attacking rooster, out of the coop and tripping over his own heels to fall, sprawling on his back on the pecked bare earth. The rooster squawks more and flies over him, obscuring his view of the clear blue sky with feathers. Then it settles beyond his head on the ground, and the sun fills his vision and burns his eyes out white as he feels a distinct swooping sensation, as if he is falling directly into the earth, falling down, down, down… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, get him! Get him!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Link fell back onto his side, trying to crawl away from the onslaught of pecking and scratching, shielding his face with his hands as his senses were overridden with the squawking of the cuccoo and the glare of the sun and the roaring laughter of a little girl. His arm stung and his eyes burned and this wasn’t funny anymore-- </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He heard a faint shout, a man’s deep voice scolding, and the attack stopped. A large, soft but calloused hand wrapped around under his arms, easily pulling his small frame to his feet. He saw a flash of white, sunlight reflected off a pair of specs, felt himself leaning against someone’s wide, round belly, as those hands inspected his torn sleeve. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you say?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He turned his head around and saw hints of a small, round face, and tangled dirty blond hair before the image faded more, washed out and blurred by the sun and his own weakened mind, and Link tried to grasp the image before it slipped away again, trying to cling to those slippery details but it was too late.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link gasps as he returns to the present, blinking away the spots the sun burned into his dried-out eyeballs as he feels someone patting his face, an echo of a concerned voice finally reaching his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...okay? Dear, are you okay?” Link shook his suddenly pounding head and sat up, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes until the sunspots burst. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What did I just see? Was that… from before the Nothing?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his eyes again to see the old woman and another villager he doesn’t recognize kneeling over him with matching looks of worry on their faces. “You alright, kid?” The man asks, and the old woman rubs his shoulder. “It looked like you fainted, for a moment there. What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link tries to tell them he has no idea what just happened, but his voice gets caught in his throat, all that escapes is a distressed whine as he shakes his head again. He can feel his brain throb inside his skull.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Lassie,” the old woman coos. She reaches into the coop and pulls out the basket of eggs he dropped. Miraculously, none of them broke. “Here, you did a good job, let's go in for tea. It’ll be good for your poor head, you must have hit it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man with the wooden bow strapped to his back shakes his head. “That rooster of yours is going to get someone killed someday, Uma,” he tuts. The old woman, Uma, huffs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t mean it,” she says, leading Link out of the pen and into the house. The man just sighs behind them. In the corner of the pen, the rooster in question clucks and puffs out its chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once inside, Uma walks over and places the full basket of eggs on the table, and takes the kettle off the fire.  “Have a seat, dearie, the tea will only be a minute.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link drops into one of the chairs at the table, feeling weary. He closes his eyes for a minute and brushes his bangs to the side, pressing the tips of his fingers just slightly to his forehead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who were those people?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Uma sets a clay teacup down on the table in front of him, and Link holds the cup in both hands as he takes a small sip of the hot, fragrant beverage. Almost immediately it does start to soothe his headache, and Link sighs. Uma sits down across from him with her own drink, silent as opposed to being in story time mode, and they sit in silence, drinking their tea for a few minutes as Link starts to feel better. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If only I could remember just one face…</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you feeling alright now, dear?” Uma eventually asks, and Link nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you…” Link whispers hoarsely. Uma nods with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t keep you any longer. Here,” she sets her cup down and stands with a small grunt, going over to a dresser pushed against the wall and opening one of the drawers. She takes something out that he can’t see in her closed fist, and when she comes back over and gestures for him to hold his hand out, she drops two gleaming rupees into his palm-- a purple and a silver one. Link gapes at the money in his hand, a total of one hundred and fifty rupees, and Uma smiles and pats his head. “Thank you for your help,” she says, “and I’m sorry for the trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Th-- thank you so much…” Link can’t seem to unwiden his eyes as Uma sends him on his way, and he heads straight down the road to look at the noticeboard he saw when he first came in. Maybe there will be more opportunities for quick rupees before he heads out again. His eyes zero in on one of the newer ads posted, tacked onto the board over some of the other papers, seeking big game hunters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Archery, now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>is squarely in his comfort zone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He treks up the hill to where the ad said to meet, seeing three hunters already gathered near a farmhouse, including the man from earlier in the cuccoo pen. They all have sturdy wooden bows strapped to their backs and full quivers, talking amongst themselves as Link approaches. The man from earlier looks up as he gets closer, and Link waves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, son,” the man calls as Link walks up to them. “You feeling better?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods and takes his bow in hand. “Do you still need more hunters?” He asks, and one of the other men eyes him dubiously, taking in his messy, torn up clothes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You some kinda wanderer?” he asks Link, and Link just shrugs. The third man whistles at the sight of his soldier’s bow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it doesn’t matter, if you’re handy enough with that thing,” he says, and the first man chuckles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name’s Dantz, by the way,” he shakes Link’s hand, “You?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Link,” Link says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“These are my buddies, Montrey and Fidin. Normally the three of us are enough to keep the deer population in Retsam forest under control, but there’s just too many of them this year, they’re destroying the forest, avaricious little buggers. You do much hunting?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Link doesn’t know if he’s lying or not, but he’s sure it’ll be fine. The bow in his hand feels like it belongs there, and slaying deer can’t be much different from slaying monsters, right? So they bring him along down the hill towards the thick, sprawling woods by the pond at the base of a mountain, quiet as they creep through the trees. They split up, each hunter going off deeper into the woods to cover as much ground as they can. After only a few minutes of creeping through the underbrush by himself, Link spots a group of fully grown deer grazing on the bushes some ways away. He climbs up the nearest tree to get a better look, and from his perch in the branches, knocks an arrow and carefully aims for the eye of the nearest buck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets the arrow fly with barely a breath and before it even lands he leaps from the tree, drawing his bow once more midair and his focus zeroes in on the other deer, feeling almost like time slows down for him as he fires a second, third arrow, clean shots right into the eye of each of his targets before he lands, as the three deer he shot fall to the ground. The rest run off, startled, but Link does nothing about it, three should be plenty. He catches his breath and walks over to the three fallen deer, suddenly finding himself at a loss for what to do next. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh…</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes out his slate and puts a pin on the empty map for the spot he’s standing in, then puts it away and hefts the first deer carcass over his shoulders with a grunt. Carrying it back to the edge of the forest is a slow and clumsy affair, but eventually he gets it there and tries to set it down as carefully as he can, just in time to see the other hunters emerging from the woods as well, carrying two carcasses between the three of them. They’re talking animatedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear, a branch just randomly fell from a tree and startled it! I would have--” Montrey is in the middle of protesting, and Fidin snorts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You scared it away with your big stomping feet,” Dantz says, and his smile widens when he sees Link standing with his own catch at his feet. “Hey, good job, little man!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s another two back there,” Link points back into the forest, “I could only carry one at a time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tw…” Fidin blinks. “Kid, one is enough, you don’t need to go back and hunt more, the others you spotted would be long gone by now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link shakes his head. “I already hunted them, I just have to go back and grab them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh--” Montrey puffs out his chest. “So you’re saying you shot down three deer at once? That’s ridiculous.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods, and Dantz laughs. “Not everyone is as incompetent as you, Montrey,” he says, “Fidin, you start loading the cart up. Come on kid, show us where your haul is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Link leads them back through the forest to where he left the other two deer, hoping nothing had come along to munch on the carcasses. But no, they’re there and intact, and Montrey can’t pretend not to be impressed as they carry them back out to the wagon. On the way back up to Dantz’ shed to break down and preserve all the different parts of the carcasses, the man in question jokes to Link, “I just might keep you around, kid, you’re too good to let go!” Link just smiles bashfully, looking up at where the sun crawls further along in the sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches intently as the three men efficiently gut the deer, skinning them and stripping the meat off the bones, putting the cleaned and dried bones into two large baskets that one would wear on their back. “Thanks for all your help, Link,” Dantz says. “Here you go, twenty for each deer.” He hands Link the rupees, and Link eagerly accepts them. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if you bring the bones down to the dye shop and the blacksmith, I’ll throw in some tails for fishing lures.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link doesn’t have a fishing rod, but he nods and accepts both task and reward anyway. He hefts one basket up onto each shoulder and waves goodbye to the three hunters, walking back down into the busiest part of the village. He comes to the dye shop first, passing by the sign that reads ‘we live to dye’-- ha, that’s funny. The shop’s front wall is missing, leaving it somewhat open to the cool fall air, and inside Link can see a man turned away from the outside, working at some sort of chemical station, probably making dyes, with unnaturally bright red hair and no shirt on under his apron. There is a woman leaning against one of the front support beams at the entrance who greets him, eyeing the baskets of bones. Link shrugs one of the baskets off his shoulder and passes it to her, and she takes it with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes to the blacksmith, across the road and sitting on the corner between the main road and a narrower side street, the inside of which is also nearly entirely open to the outside. There’s two people working away at the forge and anvil inside, and Link looks around as he wanders in. The walls are made of rough stone, and the floor is dirty, it needs to be swept badly. There are tools hanging from hooks and propped against the wall, and embers fly freely about the hot, sweaty space. One of the blacksmiths notices him and puts away his tools, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” the man smiles, and Link feels a stirring of familiarity at the circles of soot on his face. “Bone delivery?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link wordlessly holds out the second basket, and the man takes it, putting it off to the side in a corner where no one will trip on it. “Thanks,” he says, and Link nods, walking out onto the road again. He checks his slate-- 223 rupees is a pretty solid amount, but Link already knows that rupees can run out fast. He looks up at the sky, at the sun that inches imperceptibly along towards the horizon. He can squeeze in maybe one more odd job before he really does have to leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s about to go check the board again, when someone calls out to him, “Hey, travelling handyman!” Link turns to see a tall woman in a long wool dress under a layered green over-dress, her brown hair pushed back with a matching green headband coming towards him. “You seem pretty nimble and, most importantly, small,” She says, gesturing to him. “You’re not afraid of heights, are ya?” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>One hand gripping tightly to the rope slung around one of the small supports of the top of the chimney, a wooden baton held in the other, Link supports himself with his feet braced on the side of the tall structure as he artlessly jabs the stick into the keese nest blocking the chimney. It breaks apart in chunks, bits of debris falling down into the fireplace far below. The keese sleeping inside screech unhappily as the nest starts to come loose. Keese build their nests out of sticks and mud and grass and leaves and other junk they find on the ground, and they’re a pain in the ass to remove. Link supposes that’s why Mrs. Amira asked him to do it, leaving her husband the safer job of dispatching the keese when the nest falls. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost-- got it--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey mister!” A high, young voice interrupts him from the ground below. “Watcha doing up there!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link spares little more than a glance down at the little girl shouting up at him before turning back to his task. The arm holding him up is starting to strain, he wants to get this done quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” The little girl’s voice is suddenly much closer, and Link whips his head around, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, to see the tiny girl climbing up the ladder and pulling herself up onto the roof below him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing up here</span>
  </em>
  <span>--” Link’s hold on the rope slips a little in his shock, and he gasps as he grabs it again, pulling himself closer to the mess of a chimney. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Traveller, do you know this one?” The little girl calls up to him over the sound of the screeching keese, then, right there in the middle of the roof, starts shimmying and waving her arms in a little dance, then finishes on a dramatic pose. “SHAKEEEEN!” Link just stares down at her as she proudly dusts off the knees of her dress. He keeps blindly stabbing the nest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well? What do you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link turns back to his task. “That’s great, kid,” he says, and with one last solid </span>
  <em>
    <span>thwack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the nest finally breaks loose and tumbles down towards the fireplace. Link shoves the stick under the straps holding his weapons to his back, and lets the rope slip from around the support, so he slides down the chimney back to the roof with his arms and legs wrapped around it in a bear hug. The little girl is waiting for him there, but before she says anything else Link scoops her up over his shoulder and quickly carries her back down the ladder to solid ground. “Don’t go climbing up random roofs with no one watching you,” he says as he puts her down, and she pouts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were watching me,” she says, and Link sighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I was not, I meant a parent or something.” He starts walking back towards the front of the shop whose chimney he had been clearing, and the kid follows him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My daddy’s busy in the daytime,” she says, trotting along next to him. “He’s a farmer, he grows veggies and stuff.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s nice,” Link says as the faint screeching of disturbed keese from inside the shop fades to silence, meaning either the shopkeeper got the keese or they got him. The door opens, and the shopkeeper, apparently not having fallen victim to the keese, comes out with a pair of dirty glasses in his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we know what happened to old woman Uma’s glasses,” he says. “I oughta get these back to her, she’s been wandering around practically blind for three months.” Link’s eyebrows raise. “Here,” the man gives him 20 rupees. “Sorry, we’re short on goods at the moment, or I’d throw some locally-grown produce or arrows or something in with it. All we have left in stock right now are, eh, truffles.” He chuckles, and Link waves him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, thank you.” He puts away the single red rupee. The kid is still standing by his hip, kicking the dirt. The shopkeeper goes back inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have some friends your own age to play with?” Link says as he starts to walk back towards the stable and the kid follows him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My friend is being weird and stupid,” the kid complains, and Link raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not very nice,” he says, and the kid sighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” she sighs, then turns on her heel. “Bye-bye mister traveler!” She says as she runs back off. Link shakes his head and keeps walking. As he arrives back at the stable, a sharp, cool wind blows through the town from the mountains, and Link shivers, pulling his borrowed sheikah robe tighter around himself. It’s a nice garment, but it doesn’t do much for his ears-- Link quickly rubs his hands together and rubs the tips of his chilled ears with his fingers. Maybe he should see if he can get a scarf, or some sort of hood, before he leaves again. The summer is on its very last legs, giving way quickly to fall. He retrieves Nyx from the stable-- her mane has been brushed, and she looks content-- and walks with her back down the road towards the shops. Across from the general store there is a tailor. He leaves Nyx by a fencepost and goes inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The inside of the tailor is brightly lit and cozy, lanterns hanging from the ceiling and mounted on the wall. There are shelves of meticulously folded clothes in different styles, colours and fabrics, and benches of shoes and boots. Mounted on the display mannequins in two rows of three are different complete outfit sets. On the other wall across from the shelves is a doorway leading to a storeroom full of fabrics and leathers, and standing next to a crate full of rolls of linen is a young woman, with her shoulders slightly hunched and watching Link as he looks around the store.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you find anything?” the girl asks in a timid voice, and Link chews the inside of his cheek as he looks at the mannequins. One in particular catches his eye, a finely crafted adventurer’s set amongst the dresses and fancier outfits. Link approaches it, eyeing the hood and short cape on top of an incredibly nice rider’s tunic. The tunic set is made of a knitted turtleneck as the undermost layer, chainmail, and the intricately stitched outer tunic is an orangeish red colour, with a triangle pattern along the seams. The waist sash is a soft marine blue, and the leather armguards, gloves, and light chest armour looks sturdy and durable, as does the one pauldron. The hood is thick and stiff, and when Link looks closer he can see that the lining and the outside are different fabrics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s divine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That set is perfect for a traveler,” the tailor pipes up from the corner. “The layers may look intricate, but it’s really not as elaborate as it seems, and it can keep you perfectly warm and dry well into the fall and even winter, in some areas. I also have it in other colours, but red is very in right now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link squints at the clothing, then looks back towards the tailor. “How much for the tunic and hood?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl’s eyes widen. “That would be-- uh, sorry, one second, it’s… yes, those together would be one hundred and eighty rupees.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, looking back at the mannequin. That’s more than half his wallet right now… he’d be a fool to spend that much at once. But the clothes are really nice… it would be an investment… no, he can’t afford brand new clothes like this. The ones he has now aren’t exactly luxurious, but they’re better than nothing. He should just get the hood like he planned and leave it at that. He needs to save his other rupees for things like arrows, what little food he can’t forage, stable services and inns, a bedroll, arrows, medicine and elixirs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrows</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am a fool</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Link thinks as the tailor uses a measuring tape to get his size, then goes over to the shelves to pick out the right tunic. “Which colour would you like?” she asks, opening a drawer of dyed fabric swatches. Link pokes his chin for a moment, looking them over. It’s not too late to change his mind… he could still back out… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He points to the green one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very nice,” the tailor says as she pulls out the different layers of the tunic set in green in what Link suspects is the smallest size available, as well as the hood exactly like the one on display. “Since this is your first purchase over a hundred and fifty rupees, I’ll add a free basic sewing kit too.” She looks down at the floor as she brings the articles of clothing over to the counter, and Link follows, taking out the necessary rupees with a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a mirror in the fitting room if you’d like to, uh, try it on,” the tailor says once the transaction is complete, and Link picks up the folded bundles of fabric and nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link walks out of the store in his new clothes, no longer regretting this purchase at all. His old, ratty shirt and his sheikah robe have both been stored away in the slate, in favour of clothing that isn’t either at least a hundred years old or previously owned by a middle aged man. The tunic set fits snugly and comfortably, warm but not too hot for the afternoon, and he really likes the fingerless gloves and the tight vambraces to protect him from scrapes and tumbles. He leaves the hood down, content to have it just fastened around his neck for now. And, with the little sewing kit, he should be able to repair any wear and tear himself easily enough. Nyx is still waiting where he left her by the fence, and Link walks up to her with his arms held out. “Well, how do I look?” he asks the horse, and Nyx whinnies and tosses her mane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Link chuckles. “I think I look pretty good, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hoists himself up into the saddle and nudges her sides with his heels, prompting the horse to a casual walking pace. Link looks over his shoulder at the town as they leave, passing under the gate, and feels one more pang of someone else’s nostalgia as they carry on down the hill. He turns his gaze back to the road. “Let’s go, girl,” he says as he flicks the reins and they speed up. “I have more questions for Impa.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sure link might super die because now he cant afford arrows to shoot his enemies but at least he will look good doing so :)</p><p>also we very much hope you enjoyed our homebrew lore we have more coming but dw we're not gonna just overload u with headcanons but n e ways what do u think of original content memories teehee</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Impa's answers are as straight as she is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There are more mysteries hidden beneath the calm of Kakariko village than meets the eye.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>trying to write Paya with an actual stutter, still workshopping it a bit tho so let us know if you have any recommendations or things that should be either removed or put in &lt;3</p><p>sorbus this chapter is dedicated to you uwu /lh /hj /good luck with zelda 2 electric booglaoo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Link regards the thorns enveloping the base of the tower and winding up the ancient structure, a frown etching itself onto his face. He wonders how they could have grown so quickly, if the towers only rose from the ground mere days ago. Slowly, he reaches a finger out to test the sharpness of the thorn nearest to him, then stops. The tip of it is a suspiciously deep red-purple, and the even the thornless spaces on the branches radiate an untrustworthy energy. Link turns on his heel towards the campfire the bokoblin he’d just killed had had going, where he had left Nyx to eat apples off the tree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It has to be burned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link sits back on the grass, watching from a healthy few meters away as the flames eat away at the thorn branches, the fire spreading along the dry, brittle plant quickly as putrid purple smoke rises from the tall inferno creeping higher and higher along the tower. It reminds him of the way that monsters dissipate into purple mist when he kills them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the thorns give way to ash falling to the ground like dark snow, and Link climbs the tower. The climb itself is easy, but long and tiring, and he has to take many short breaks on the platforms that spiral up the structure. When he finally gets to the top, instead of heading immediately for the terminal, Link takes a moment to look out upon the view from the tower, appreciating the sprawling expanse of Hyrule stretching out beyond him. He can see Hateno village, so small from all the way up here, and beyond that, a mountain enshrouded in thick, mysterious fog. Beyond that, a mighty volcano, glowing rivulets of lava in the distance, and, closer than that, a waterfall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns his head and his eyes light up as he spots the glimpse of </span>
  <em>
    <span>ocean</span>
  </em>
  <span> peeking out from behind mountaintops, the faint curve of the horizon nothing but endless blue. A drop of water falls from the sky and splashes on the edge of the tower in front of him, and Link retreats back under the cover of the tower to the terminal. He plugs the slate in and waits as it twists and activates the tower. A light sunshower drizzles from the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the tower gives him his slate back he takes a second to inspect the section of map he downloaded. It’s big, bigger than he thought it would be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lanayru mountain. Already labeled on his map and huge, Link glances up at it and the clouds that strangle the peak, and where before he felt awe and curiosity, now an odd sense of dread squeezes his chest at the thought of Lanayru mountain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns away from it. He’s wasting time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Can’t waste time stressing about unknowns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Climbing back down and hopping up into Nyx’s saddle, they take off again back down the road from the tower, towards Kakariko village. The road back down the hill towards Fort Hateno feels quicker now that it is more familiar, and he looks around at the landscape in the bright afternoon sun as Nyx trots along the road. They slow to a walk when they enter the treeline of the forest under the cliffs, dappled sunlight streaming warm down through the small gaps in the leaves. Link notices as Nyx’s hooves kick up dirt on the road, that the leaves are starting to turn, hints of red and orange trickling along the edges of the leaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can get a better look at the fort itself now, in daylight as opposed to when he first saw it as the sun was going down. He notices the mismatched scaffolding along the interior of the wall, reinforcing the damaged, crumbling stone structure with wood of varying ages. And, lined up along the base of the inside of the fort, rows and rows of hundred-year-old graves. Rusted weapons thrust into the dirt, carved logs and flat rocks propped up against the wall-- so many of them there are barely even gaps between the graves. Fresh flowers have been planted or draped over every single one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throat tight, Link’s head hangs as they pass under the gate. He feels shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kicking his heels against Nyx’s flank, he urges her faster as they race across Blatchery plain, his gaze focused solely on the road ahead. He does not look at the legion of decayed guardians that line the path. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the turn in the road onto Kakariko bridge, he hears a cry for help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alarm jumping up behind his ribs, he cracks Nyx’s reins and they dash across the bridge as the cries get clearer. Right at the other end, off the side of the road, hunched over her twisted ankle, is a young woman, with olive skin and light brown hair that comes down to just past her jaw. Her eyes are squeezed shut in pain. It’s the girl who healed him at the stable, Sagessa. Link jumps from the saddle before Nyx is even stopped, running towards the girl and kneeling in the grass in front of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Link gasps. “What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sagessa peeks up at him, her brow knitted in a way that Link, for some reason, finds off-putting. Her shoulders shake, and it takes a moment for Link to realize, disconcerted, that she is laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are naive… </span>
  <em>
    <span>hero</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The distress vanishes from her face and is replaced with a twisted, snarling smirk. Link reels back just to narrowly miss having his head lopped off by a viciously sharp sickle that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not in her hand a second ago</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Sagessa jumps to her feet, any semblance of a hurt ankle long gone. She brings her hands together with a strange laugh and her body is concealed by a sudden burst of magenta smoke. Link grimaces and jumps to his feet, drawing his sword and shield as the smoke dissipates, revealing a masked figure clad tightly in red and black. On the mask is the same eye symbol that represents the sheikah-- only it’s upside down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yiga</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Yiga assassin laughs again and charges at Link with a deadly swing of their sickle. Link sidesteps and parries with his sword, the clang of blade on blade ringing in his ears. He returns the slash but the Yiga jumps back before attacking again. Link grunts as he barely dodges in time, almost falling backwards into the grass. He rolls with the movement as the Yiga follows him. Knowing it’s a dirty move, he aims a slash at the Yiga’s legs anyway. This assassin is damn fast enough to nearly overwhelm him. Link jumps to his feet to block a hit with his shield, then another, and another, the curved blade scraping loudly against the wood, until he spots an opening. The Yiga swings their arm up high to land a strong blow to his shield, and Link ducks under the arc to slash at their side with the tip of his sword. His blade slices through the red material, drawing a thin line of crimson underneath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Yiga yelps and stumbles backwards, and Link tries to use the moment of off-balance to land another hit, but they recover quickly, catching Link’s blade with the curve of their sickle to twist it out of his hand. Link holds fast against the yanking motions of the Yiga, and the assassin laughs. “You’re rusty and outdated, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hero</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” they taunt him, “just like this old sword of yours!” They lift their leg and kick down onto the flat part of Link’s sword, and Link’s eyes widen in horror as it breaks in two, shards of metal flying into the air. Link drops the handle like it’s burning hot, flipping back away from the Yiga’s next blow. Now there is nothing between their sickle and his face but his shield, and the assassin is moving too fast for him to take another weapon from the slate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing again, the Yiga pauses and the eye on their mask flashes again as glowing symbols appear around them. Suddenly they vanish, and Link whips his head around. He hears a burst of fluttering papers-- above him! Link ducks and raises his shield above his head just as the assassin lands on his shield, the tip of their sickle piercing </span>
  <em>
    <span>through </span>
  </em>
  <span>his shield, the wood splintering, stopping just short of his eye. It sticks, the Yiga making a confused noise as they try to pull it out, their weight still all on Link’s shield arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link heaves upwards, throwing the Yiga off, and the sickle stays behind, sticking out of his shield. He throws it to the side, and the Yiga tries to make a dive for their weapon, but Link blocks them. The Yiga aims a hard elbow at Links head, he ducks and punches right under their ribs, landing a solid uppercut right on their diaphragm. They stumble back with a wheeze, and Link roundhouse kicks the side of their head, the hard edge of their mask momentarily digging into his foot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They curse, grabbing the side of their mask. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tch.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” They pause. “Go! Bananas!” Link blinks as the Yiga assassin shouts out of nowhere, one hand clutching their hurt side as the eye on the mask flashes, and suddenly in their free hand is a bundle of bananas that they hurl right at Link’s face. Link squawks and tries to duck away as the flailing flying bananas smack him right in the nose. The Yiga seems to burst away into a cloud of magenta light, the particles swirling and flying away towards the horizon, leaving Link winded from the fight, and leaving their weapon behind, still stuck in Link’s shield.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he catches his breath, Link kicks the two pieces of his broken sword away into the river, and bends down to pick up his shield. With a grunt of effort, he pulls the sickle from the wood and puts it and his shield away, looking over to the distant skyline where the Yiga disappeared with a frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doubts that Sagessa was really a Yiga in disguise all along. She had plenty of opportunity to kill him back at the stable. But somehow, the idea that that Yiga had disguised themself as one of the few people in all of Hyrule Link already knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>by coincidence</span>
  </em>
  <span> is even more implausible. And that aside, how did they know he was the hero in the first place…? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link’s blood turns to ice as he glances over his shoulder, calling Nyx back to him with a click of his tongue. A cruel chill runs down his spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are watching him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They have been watching him this whole time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whole rest of the way up the road to Kakariko village, he is looking over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathes a little easier once he passes under the archways of Kakariko village. The people outside perk up and wave to him as he passes by on his horse, and Link waves back halfheartedly, his focus on the big house in the heart of the village. He leads Nyx over to the short row of squat stone frog statues with the little trays in front. Paya is there, kneeling down with a basket of apples, placing an apple in each of the little trays. She doesn’t notice Link coming with Nyx. He stops the horse by the gate at the foot of the stairs and dismounts, walking over to Paya. He crouches down next to her to get a better look at the little statues, and Paya’s head spins as she notices him, jumping a foot in the air with a yelp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M-m-master Link!” Paya stammers, her face already bright red. “Wh-when did you arrive in the village?! Please don’t startle me like that again…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link snorts and shakes his head. “I won’t, if you stop calling me ‘master’ Link.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya’s eyes widen and she shakes her head hard enough for her hair-loopies to swing side to side. She looks back at the frog statues, avoiding his gaze. “I-- that’s far too informal! I can’t do that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “What are you doing?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Paya glances quickly between him and the frog statues, visibly chewing the inside of her cheek, and Link thinks it’s kind of cute. “I’m, um, I’m just cleaning up the guardian deities… and leaving some snacks out for the koroks.” She takes another apple from the basket and leaves it in one of the empty trays. Link’s eyebrows raise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Koroks?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya looks at him from the corner of her eye. “You can see them too, right?” She asks, her voice soft. “Here, once I’ve filled all the trays, they’ll start to come out.” Her eyes shift to something over Link’s shoulder just as he hears a crunching noise behind him. “Ah!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link looks back to see Nyx eating the apples that Paya had put down on the trays, and Link yelps, scrambling to his feet and trying to shoo Nyx away from the apples. “Nyx! Nyx no, those aren’t for you!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The horse whinnies and backs away, and Link looks back at Paya with an apologetic expression, but to his surprise, instead of being upset at his troublemaking horse, she giggles softly behind her hand. Link coughs awkwardly, looking away and tugging on his hair. “Uh… sorry about that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Paya smiles, “I have extras. M-may I feed her one?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What, and reward her bad behaviour?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Link thinks. “Yeah,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya stands up and brings the basket over, holding out an apple. Link watches closely as Nyx sniffs the apple in her hand, then takes it, crunching on it happily. Paya smiles a little wider, patting the horse’s snout. Link looks down at the grass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They replace the apples Nyx had eaten and finish filling the rest of the trays, then take a step back. Link wonders how long it will take for the Koroks to come out. He wonders if they’ll all be as big as Hestu. Then, faintly, he hears laughter like little bell chimes, and multiple little teeny tree guys with leaf faces pop up out of nowhere and take the apples, scampering off out of sight in the blink of an eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya brushes bits of dirt off her knees. “Y-You’re here to see my grandmother, right?” She asks in a quiet voice. Link nods. “You should go on up, then. She’s going to be going down for a nap, soon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods again in thanks, and heads up the stairs towards the big house in front of the waterfalls. He pushes the doors open and steps inside, and from her seat, from under her wide hat, Impa smiles like she knew he was there the whole time. “Purah gave you more questions than she answered, didn’t she?” The elder asks before he can say anything, and he nods, approaching her with the slate in hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Purah told me to show you these,” he opens the picto album and hands Impa the slate, watching carefully how her eyes shift as she looks through the hundred-year-old pictos on it. It’s impossible to discern what emotion she is feeling in response to seeing the landscapes princess Zelda took before the Calamity. “Yes…” she mutters, “yes, these pictos were without a doubt taken by Zelda. It’s true, Hyrule </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful one hundred years ago.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s still there</span>
  </em>
  <span>… Link thinks with a hint of salt, not understanding why people speak of Hyrule as if it is beyond healing. The Hyrule they have now is the only one Link knows, and he has not seen much of it, but he knows he loves it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Purah said that… those pictos might help me regain my memories…” Link says slowly. “And she said you knew the princess better than anyone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Impa seems to pause, looking down at the slate, her eyes and hands stilled. “These are Zelda’s memories,” she non-answers. “Purah has always known machines much more intimately than the human mind, but you should leave no stone unturned nonetheless.” She holds the slate back out to Link, and he takes it without looking at the pictos and places it back on his belt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continues, “Come back here once you have tried going to at least one of these locations… whether you remember or not. There is something I wish to give you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods. “Is there anything else?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A strange glint appears behind the old woman’s eyes. “Not yet,” she says. “Now, go. The Divine Beast of Zora’s domain awaits.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link turns and leaves.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paya,” Link jogs to catch up with the tall girl walking up the hill. She jumps slightly, turning towards him. “Paya, do you know any of these places?” He shows her the pictos on the slate, and Paya squints at the numerous landscapes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“These m-m-must be from all over Hyrule…” she says. “Sorry, I only recognize that one-- that’s Lanayru Promenade. The rest… I can’t say for sure. Sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link turns the slate back around and looks at the white stone gate in the picto she had landed on. “Where is Lanayru Promenade?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paya pales a little, self-consciously touching one of her hair loopies. “Directly east of here,” she says, “but it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> dangerous. The road is in disrepair, and teeming with powerful monsters. And at the gate in that pictograph, a silver Lynel waits. No one should ever go there.” Her eyes widen, and red rises in her cheeks as she waves her hands. “I-- I mean--! Not that I don’t think you could handle it! Of course, you’re the champion, I’m sure you’re a-- a mighty warrior, I just-- I mean, it’s-- uh, nevermind!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ducks her head and speed-walks past him back towards her house. “Ask Dorian about the other places, he’s well travelled!” She calls over her shoulder, and then she’s gone, dashing up the stairs, leaving Link blinking in confusion in the middle of the path. Some people are staring. He shrugs and walks towards Dorian’s house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he opens the door, Koko is sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs back and forth and watching as Dorian chases Cottla around the house, a pair of pajamas in his hand. Cottla giggles as she evades her bedtime. The small child gasps in excitement when she sees Link open the door, and runs over to hug his legs. “Mister Link!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link catches his balance as the door shuts behind him, reaching down to pat Cottla on the head. He looks up at Dorian. For a second, he almost thinks he sees something cautious and guarded behind Dorian’s eyes, but then it’s gone before Link can even process the notion. “Sorry to intrude…” he says, and Dorian shakes his head with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s no trouble,” he says, walking over and using Cottla’s moment of distraction to scoop her up in the air and wrestle her pajamas on over her head as she shrieks and laughs. “What can we do for you?” He asks casually as if he doesn’t have his arms full of squirming five-year-old. Link quickly glances at the children-- gives Koko a wave, which she returns somewhat sleepily-- then his hand drifts down to the slate at his hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There were just some things I wanted to ask you,” he says quietly. “Paya told me you’re well-travelled.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorian nods, and brings Cottla over to the bed. “Meet me outside, then,” he says, “I will join you as soon as I’ve got these two down for bed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cottla blows a raspberry, and Koko snickers. Link smiles and goes back out the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a seat on the steps leading up to the house, taking out the slate and looking at the old pictos again. He flips through them, examining the images, scrutinizing the details. He wonders-- hopes-- that he will be able to remember something just from looking at them, but no matter how hard he inspects each blade of grass, each cloud in the sky, each bit of rock, each crack in stone, it brings nothing to the surface of his mind. He sighs, just as the door opens behind him and Dorian comes down the stairs towards him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you want to ask me?” He says, and Link shows him the slate. “What’s this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pictographs taken a hundred years ago by Princess Zelda,” Link says, and Dorian’s eyes widen as he looks through them. “Do you know where these places are?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorian hums in thought, taking another look at the photos. “Well, Hyrule has certainly changed much in the last century… any of the pictos with Hyrule Castle near in the background are almost definitely in Hyrule field. That’s… er, well, whatever that building was, it’s definitely gone now… </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the birch trees, that must be Lake Kolomo, that’s north of the great plateau. This one’s easy enough, that’s Lanayru road-- I don’t know what those columns are, but it must be near Rito territory. That one’s easy, you don’t get that sunset anywhere other than Kara Kara town. And this one is probably either Death Mountain or the Gerudo highlands, based off the colour of that stone.” He takes a moment to look at the rest, then points to one of the few pictos with a gloomy, cloudy atmosphere. “This was taken northwest of Bridge Hylia, since you can see the Gerudo Highlands in the distance. This one…” he pauses on the picto of some bright, stone structure. “I don’t know where this one is, but whatever it is, it’s probably ruins now. That’s probably a Goddess Spring, I’d guess not Wisdom, judging by the lack of snow. And this last one… I have no idea, it could be literally any forest.” He hands Link back the slate. “Sorry, kid. Wish I could be more help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link clips it back on his belt. “It’s fine,” he says. He looks up at the sky, at the setting sun, and frowns. “How long is the trip to Zora’s domain?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorian looks at him. “From here? What, are you leaving tonight?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link nods. He feels like the time is slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, even though he has only been awake for a few days. To him, these last fews days have been a lifetime. Dorian sighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a lengthy trip. But, if you take the back road out of the village and go down the hill, instead of around Dueling peaks, then there will be a stable close by where you can rest and get more detailed directions. Travel quickly, I’ve heard there are bokos on horseback there. And, I shouldn’t have to tell you, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> dangerous to travel at night. Are you sure about leaving now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorian gives a minute shake of his head. “Then you’d better get some rest, first. It’s dangerous to travel at night, but it’s even more dangerous to do it when you’re tired. There’s food and an extra bedroll in the house, you can help yourself to them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link’s eyes widen. “Thank you…” it occurs to him he doesn’t have a bedroll, yet. And there are surely nights in the near future for him where he won’t have access to a bed. Dorian stands, and so does Link. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wish you safe travels, Hero.” Dorian turns to walk away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Link says, and the man pauses in his steps. “On my way here, I fought with a Yiga assassin-- they were disguised as someone… someone I know. And I don’t think it was a coincidence.” Dorian looks at him over his shoulder, but the shadows of nightime are creeping up on them, and Link can’t make out the expression on his face. “How can I know who is Yiga and who isn’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorian seems to think on this for a moment. Then, “there is no way to know,” he says, turning fully around to face Link, looking at him with a serious look in his eyes. “But that must not stop you from having faith in the people you meet, from believing that people are good. Paranoia will do you no favours on your quest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With no words to respond to that, Link just stares as Dorian walks away, his head spinning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds the bedroll and the food preserves in a cupboard in Dorian’s family’s house, creeping along the old floorboards quietly so he doesn’t wake the sleeping kids. He takes the bedroll and lays it out on the grass tucked away behind Dorian’s house. He takes off his weapons and his belts, leaving them with the slate in a heap next to his pillow. He’ll sleep for an hour, then he’ll leave Kakariko village.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun has set and the sky is dark when Link wakes, the only light now coming from the moon and the paper lanterns strung all around the village. He groggily rubs his eyes and puts his gear back on, packing the bedroll back up and munching on some dried fruit. He comes out from behind the house and whistles for Nyx, and she whinnies and runs up towards him. He pats her nose and fastens the bedroll to the back of her saddle, then swings up and grabs the reins. They take the back gate out of the village, and as soon as they pass under it, Link cracks the reins and they take off at a gallop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Far in the distance, out of his line of sight, thunder rumbles as rain pours down over the mountains in merciless endless sheets.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>and thus concludes Heartbreaker Link 1, a dating sim coming soon to stores near you</p><p>Dorian.... whats up man. you good?</p><p>powpowpow pow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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